


Aus in Eldest

by ChaosDancer12, FloofyChimeraNinja



Series: Bad Sanses in Alagaësia [2]
Category: The Inheritance Cycle - Christopher Paolini, Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Multi, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:42:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 37,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26547721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChaosDancer12/pseuds/ChaosDancer12, https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloofyChimeraNinja/pseuds/FloofyChimeraNinja
Series: Bad Sanses in Alagaësia [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701190
Comments: 15
Kudos: 20





	1. Disaster

Nightmare quietly accompanied Eragon and Saphira as they strode through the hellish aftermath of the recent clash of armies. Wailing carried across the battlefield as women mourned their dead family and friends. Saphira picked her way through the mangled bodies, enemy and ally alike. The King of Negativity was slightly disturbed by it all, having never seen quite this much blood and entrails. He was used to monster dust.

Cross and Fresh were behind them, both silent as they took in the morbid and greyed scene, blood the only color on the ground, vivid and disturbing. Funeral pyres burned at the far wall in Farthen Dûr, the dead Urgals given no honor for dying in battle. Dust, Killer and Horror were doing their best to pay their respects to them, believing even Urgals deserved such in death. After all, they could be misunderstood for all everyone knew. Something they themselves were quite familiar with.

Error had been doing what he could in the cleanup efforts, having more than enough power and magic to do so. Chaos mostly stayed close to Error, helping out where she could. Blue had remained with GB, acting as translator while the dragonic skeleton was getting acquainted with those in power, learning more about the 'Bad Guys' and the Varden. This had been happening over the course of three days.

Eragon had tried helping during that time, but he always burst into fits of agony, spasming as he collapsed on the floor. Nightmare had done his best to mute the pain after the healers and Angela explained they didn't see anything wrong.  
Now, they trudged through the massacre, silence between them as all were lost in thought.

Eragon had been left fragile and hollow by his experience with killing Durza. Everyone in the Wyrdaí Islingrya had been a little extra kind to him, knowing that he'd been through much and didn't want to be treated childishly, so they just chose friendliness over being gentle. It was what they felt he needed, having been through situations somewhat like his own. Nightmare had often checked on Eragon in his own way, asking the human's thoughts and opinions on the regular about random things, never leaving his side unless asked to.

But right now all of them had chosen introspective silence. The small group looped back towards Tronjhiem, spotting Jörmundur and Geno heading over. Upon arriving, Ajihad's second in command bowed at Nightmare, Error, and Eragon. Geno crossed his arms, raising a non-existent eyebrow at the action, as where the monsters came from that was not used so often.  
"I'm glad we found you in time, Lord Nightmare, Error and Eragon." Jörmundur began, gripping a paper in one hand. "Ajihad is returning, and he wants you to be there when he arrives."

The trio nodded, following the newcomers around the edge of Tronjhiem, seeing a few of the others by the gate.  
Ajihad had been gone most of the time, hunting down Urgals in the network of tunnels under the Beor Mountains. Murtaugh and the Twins often joined him, the wicked pair because they were to guard the Varden's leader, Murtaugh because he wanted to prove he wasn't an enemy. Eragon and the Wyrdaí Islingrya definitely missed him, they all planned on catching up soon.

Orik, Arya, GB and Blue were waiting on them as the group arrived. "Where will Ajihad come from?" Eragon asked. Blueberry pointed at a well lit tunnel entrance a few miles off. "He'll be here soon."  
They settled down, talking quietly amongst themselves and leaving Eragon to converse with Saphira. Cross started up a conversation with GB, the Blaster Sans still uncomfortable with him as he was still used to seeing the monochrome and his friends as remorseless murderers. Thankfully, Berry helped him warm up a little more, at last hearing Cross's story from back in the Multiverse. It left the animalistic skeleton with a few tears in his sockets.

Eventually, a group was emerging from the hole in the distance, forming ranks and beginning to march forward. Their team paid no heed, as they were far away anyway. It was only when Saphira and Eragon tensed and exclaimed "Urgals!" that they stood up in alarm.  
It was so quick, no one understood what was happening. The distant team of humans and dwarves were lost in a whirlwind of Urgals and movement. Nightmare was the first to act, teleporting across the space and engaging an Urgal with his tentacles.

But to his surprise, another one gave him a strange look, as though smug, throwing a glowing red scythe with wisps of black smoke trailing it at him.  
The aim was true; it struck the King of Negativity, piercing his ribcage and impaling his Soul.

Nightmare froze, his sockets wide as his vision blurred. He choked on his own black blood, stained with purple magic as it dribbled from his mouth. His tentacles spasmed before dropping uselessly to the ground. He had time to stare in disbelief as a screaming Murtaugh was dragged down into the depths of the earth, the human staring in equal incredulity at the skeleton's plight before disappearing entirely, his cries echoing from the tunnel as they faded.

Nightmare had been silent this whole time, rendered helpless as he felt his energy drain from the cursed Multiverse weapon protruding from his chest. He coughed out more of his blood, then recognized a body amidst the wreckage, dragging his now-bloodied self over to Ajihad as the sounds of teleportation and a dragon echoed behind him. There were a few cries of shock and dispair as Nightmare was grabbed by Cross. He angrily shook the hands off, arriving next to Ajihad.  
" _Human._ " He wheezed, blood and goop staining the already bloody dirt. He grasped Ajihad's hand in his own.  
"Lord.. Nightmare…. You are hurt.."  
" _I will live.. when I recover_ " The human's eyes glazed for a moment, then refocused. "Where is Eragon?" He wheezed.  
"I am here." The Rider said softly, tears already wetting his face.

"Listen to me, Eragon. Lord… Nightmare, I have one last wish.." Eragon leaned closer, the rest of the team panicking as Nightmare's tentacles and feet began dissolving. "Promise me something." Ajihad hacked. "Promise that you… won't let the Varden fall into chaos. They are the only hope for resisting the Empire… They must be kept strong. You must promise me."  
"I promise."  
" _I give you my word, Lord Nightstalker. Have peace…_ "  
"Then peace be with you, Lord Nightmare.. and Eragon Shadeslayer…"  
The noble leader of the Varden slipped into the dreamless sleep of death, the King of Negativity slumping away, the dark red cursed scythe sliding out of his ribs with a muted clatter.  
" _Stydja unin mor'ranr, Dwerva…_ " He couldn't finish his sentence, instead sighing...  
" _Wait for me, boys… I will be.. right.. back…_ "

And with that, Nightmare's body dissolved into black slime, leaving a cluster of bluish ethereal apples crowding around a slightly brighter purple Soul, the Soul in the shape of an apple itself.  
The Soul and Apples faded out of view.

Then Chaos screamed.

……

Nightmare drifted between realms, watching the scene unfold before him. He couldn't die, at the very least, not now. He simply lost his physical form. He was a small galaxy of darkness in the realm of energy and the spirit, a place too far to be seen from the physical plane.

 _𝔇𝔞𝔪𝔫𝔦𝔱, 𝔴𝔥𝔶 𝔡𝔦𝔡 ℑ 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔫?_ He pondered to himself as Blue hugged a screaming Chaos, sobbing. Cross was still on his kneecaps, looking shell-shocked. Fresh was trying to calm down GB, the skeleblaster freaking out at Nightmare's 'death'. Eragon was just quiet, wholly disconnected from reality. The human asked Arya to find Murtaugh, having figured out that he wasn't among the dead. She vanished into the tunnel. Then GB's bones cracked loudly, changing into his Blaster form as he howled mournfully for the loss of one of his saviours.

 _𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔈𝔯𝔯𝔬𝔯? ℌ𝔢 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔰 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔢!_ The invisible spirit grumbled.  
As if summoned, the glitch appeared in their midst, confused.  
"What happened?"  
"Ajihad is-" "NIGHTMARE DIED!" Chaos shrieked, throwing herself at her father in a sobbing mess. Error huffed upon her crushing hug, processing what she said as Blue joined in, hiccuping.

"Oh come on, you babybones. He's a god. Nightmare can't die." He explained gently. Cross suddenly jumped up, eyelights still gone.  
" **He dusted. Right here.** " He said in a dark, heavy voice. Error furrowed his non-existent eyebrows.

"Did he turn into dust?" He asked matter-of-factly. Fresh turned around as the monochrome blinked. "H-he turned into goop. There, right there." He pointed at the blackened, bluish puddle, not noticing it had stained some of his clothes. Error regarded it, using strings to pick out some black stained clothes from it. They dripped.  
"Ew... But again, he's not like you. Nightmare can 'dust', but he's not dead. I don't know what it's like, but this has happened before. Only one person is capable of doing that to him, and it's not Dream."

Silence fell as everyone took in what he said.  
"Then what happened to him?" Fresh asked, forsaking his lingo for once.  
"Who is able to do that?" Chaos added, voice wobbly.  
Error shrugged. "Someone you don't want to meet. As for what happened, he just lost enough magic to fade from our plane of existence. I'm willing to bet he's just throwing a fit right next to us for letting this happen. Didn't he try to explain it before actually.. melting?"  
"He was too busy talking to Ajihad." Fresh said flatly, indicating the body.  
"OH- oh no. He's.. dead." Error sighed.

Orik was kneeling by the human, paying respect to the leader. Jörmundur was approaching, guards waiting outside the circle of dead.  
"Barzúln, this makes things complicated." The dwarf turned to face them, asking if any heard his last words.  
Nightmare, unseen, edged closer to Eragon as he answered. "They must wait for the right person before I'll repeat them."

Jörmundur arrived as Orik swore. He touched Ajihad's shoulder sadly. "How can fate be this cruel, my old friend? I would have been here sooner if not for the size of this cursed mountain, and then you might have been saved. Instead, we are wounded at the height of our triumph."  
Dust, Horror, Killer, Red and Geno entered their circle, eyelights either shrinking or vanishing upon seeing what happened, save for Killer, who just blankly dropped to his kneecaps before the pool.

"He's not dead." Error assured them. "This has happened before, back when he didn't have you guys. He's just recovering."  
" **Who did this?** " Dust and Horror demanded.  
" _What_ did this?" Killer questioned, voice hollow.  
Red picked up the scythe. "This is from the Multiverse." He spoke slowly.

Error snatched it from him, studying it as Geno gasped. Both glitches huddled together to peer at the glowing blade.  
"It feels somewhat like Reaper's scythe.." Error mumbled worryingly. "No." Geno grabbed onto it. "I know that Determination anywhere. That's a Chara."  
Chaos tried to peer at the scythe too, only to wince and cradle her left arm, hoping that no one had noticed that. She tilted her head to the side.  
"Does Reaper have a Chara?" She asked.  
"He comes from an AU like most others, so he must." Error responded, not looking up from the blade.  
"If a Chara is capable of doing this to Night.." Geno trailed, thinking. "Error, have you ever encountered a Chara with a scythe?"  
"No, I only deal with scapegoat Charas. Some really are bad people for some reason."  
"So we could be dealing with… an evil god on Galbatorix's side. That can take out Nightmare." Geno wrung his hands. "Damnit, this really does make things difficult."

"Chaos, what's wrong with your arms?" Blue suddenly asked. The Temmie meeped as the two glitches glanced up in concern. Then Geno's socket widened. "Your arms!"  
Error impaled the ground with the blade and grabbed Chaos's wrist. "They changed color?" The Temmie winced. "Daddy, that hurts!"  
"What?" He let go, and she cradled her left arm. "I kinda tripped over and hurt it running over here." She mumbled.  
Error glared at her. "You didn't tell me." He grumbled, pulling out strings as they wrapped up her arm. "You hurt yourself and didn't tell me. How am I supposed to feel?" He chatisized her, the cast glowing with a green aura as it healed. "And then there's your arms. They're _black_. Why are they black?"

She held up her free hand. "I don't know, it happened during the battle. It won't wash off. I think it's my fur. And it's not just black." She used her teeth to pull down the right sleeve of her jumper, revealing that the fur up to her elbow was still white, but the fur on her elbow was grey. Her arm after that was just pure black with a few strands of white fur dotted throughout it. The black fur was also present on the palm of her hand as well, but several strands of yellow fur could be seen on her fingers. "It kinda reminds me of your hands Daddy."  
The multicolored eyelights in Error's sockets winked out, leaving just the red background behind.  
Then he chuckled softly.  
"I kinda.. like that." He muttered.

Geno smiled a little, then faced the others. "This is a bit much to process right now. Let's just… deal with one thing at a time."  
"Like Ajihad." A quiet voice spoke up. They all turned. Horror was staring blankly at the fallen soldier. "We should honor this one. He was a good man." His worn voice rattled.

"Yes. Yes." Jörmundur said, still weary. Then he raised his voice. "Look. Ajihad died a warrior's death! He slew five Urgals where a lesser man might have been overwhelmed by one. We will give him every honor and hope his spirit pleases our gods. Bear him and our companions back to Tronjhiem on your shields, any who carry them.… and do not be ashamed to let your tears be seen, for this is a day of sorrow that all will remember. May we soon have the privilege of sheathing our blades in the beasts who have slain our leader!"

The human warriors knelt, removing their hats in respect to Ajihad, then picked him up, placing his body on their shields between their shoulders, many weeping. The Wyrdaí Islingrya then joined them solemnly, glancing back at the motionless puddle Nightmare had left behind before surrounding Saphira and Eragon in a procession towards the helm of giants, Tronjhiem.  
Nightmare hovered near them, hidden in his incorporeal form.  
_𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔩𝔬𝔰𝔰, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔚𝔶𝔯𝔡𝔞 𝔬𝔣 𝔄𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔞ë𝔰𝔦𝔞..._  
_ℑ 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔴𝔥𝔬 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔲𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢._


	2. Council of Elders

Eragon was getting out of bed, silent and brooding. Nightmare shuffled his formless self invisibly, wishing he could provide comfort for the human. Though, he did understand that Eragon only needed time. 

Nevertheless, the immortal King of Negativity wished to give him solace.

The Rider began to cry quietly. Nightmare loathed himself as he drew strength from Eragon's misery. 

It had been a long time since he last felt this way about his power. 

Eragon caught one of the tears sliding down his face, then stared at it blankly. Nightmare watched this, touched by the human's mood. 

"Draumr kópa." He whispered to the droplet, and Nightmare twisted, knowing that Eragon was trying to find Murtaugh. Only darkness appeared in the orb.

More tears slicked from Eragon's eyes. 

So he leaned back, breathing deep to calm himself as Nightmare reached out for the boy he was supposed to protect. 

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔞 𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫 ℑ 𝔞𝔪… 

Saphira awoke, yawning before addressing her Rider. Nightmare watched mutely from the shadows of another realm as they discussed the dreary morning, and pondered how the Urgals had managed to follow Ajihad's group without being spotted. Then Saphira changed the topic, reminding Eragon of his need to eat, to learn what the Varden had planned for next. The human agreed, pausing as he was temporarily lost in thought before reaching for Snowfire's saddle. 

Eragon collapsed on the floor, spasming and clawing frantically at his back. Saphira growled as she sensed his pain, and Nightmare roiled, desperate to stop Eragon's pointless suffering. He started thinking about his options to Eragon. He was the only one capable of muting the human's pain, though if he were to do that now it would prolong his recovery and keep him in this spirit form much longer than he preferred.

Nightmare was at an impasse, watching Eragon cry helplessly, or finally doing what he failed to do all those eons ago…

Protect. 

With an angry flick, Nightmare threw his consciousness into Eragon's, igniting his power within the sobbing human. Eragon gasped, arching his back as the pain subsided. After a pause, he rolled over to stare at Saphira with wide eyes, Nightmare a little uncomfortable as he was intimately aware of it. 

Saphira! Do you sense it?

Sense what, Eragon? 

Nightmare's magic!

There was a pause, then the dragon bent closer. No, I do not sense him. Error said he was not in our plane of existence. He isn't here, Eragon. 

Nightmare scoffed mentally. Eragon flinched. The King of Negativity hesitated.

𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔪𝔢?

The human spun, looking around frantically. Saphira, I hear him!

Eragon, calm down.

𝔏𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔰𝔢𝔢 𝔪𝔢. 

But I hear you!

𝔒𝔣 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔞𝔫, 𝔪𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔫, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔪𝔶 𝔡𝔲𝔱𝔶 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔠𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫'𝔱 𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔬 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔦𝔷𝔲𝔯𝔢𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶 𝔣𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔫𝔲𝔱𝔢𝔰, 𝔰𝔬 ℑ 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔫𝔰 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔫𝔬𝔴. He spoke so Saphira could hear across the link. 

You can do that?

𝔐𝔶 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔣𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔶𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔦𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔞ë𝔰𝔦𝔞. 𝔚𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 ℑ 𝔞𝔪, ℑ 𝔰𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔩𝔡. 𝔈𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔫𝔬𝔴, 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔪𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔐𝔲𝔩𝔱𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰𝔢. ℑ 𝔪𝔞𝔶 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢 𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔞𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔰 ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔫 𝔄𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔞ë𝔰𝔦𝔞, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔱 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔯. 𝔄𝔩𝔩 ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔪𝔶 𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔠𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔫𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔯𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶 𝔭𝔥𝔶𝔰𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔟𝔬𝔡𝔶, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔴𝔢 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰. 

Why would you postpone your recovery for me?

ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔡 𝔬𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫. ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔣𝔞𝔦𝔩 𝔞 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢. 

….

Thank you.

ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔑𝔬𝔴 𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔦𝔱, 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔶 𝔴𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 ℭ𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔠𝔦𝔩 𝔬𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔬𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔨𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫 𝔠𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 

Do you want us to explain your decision to them and the Wyrdaí Islingrya? Saphira asked.

𝔑𝔬. ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱. 

.. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔨 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔣𝔣𝔢𝔯. 

Thank you for sacrificing for me.

𝔅𝔞𝔥, 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔱𝔬 𝔢𝔞𝔱, 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫! ℑ 𝔡𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔴 𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢 𝔦𝔰. Nightmare muttered irritably, shifting within Eragon uncomfortably. 

… I'm sorry?

Nightmare sighed mentally as Eragon got up and left the room with Saphira. 

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔦𝔰𝔢, 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔲𝔩𝔱 ℑ 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔣𝔢𝔯 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔴𝔫 𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫𝔥𝔞𝔟𝔦𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔞 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫 𝔟𝔢𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢. 

Have you.. inhabited others before? Saphira asked slowly. Nightmare hesitated, trying to conceal his memories from them. 

𝔜𝔢𝔰. He said truthfully. 𝔗𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 𝔦𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰𝔫'𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔭𝔲𝔯𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔢𝔰.. He admitted. A few people addressed Eragon as Argetlam and Shadeslayer as they strode through Tronjhiem. 

ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔩𝔦𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔞 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔞𝔰𝔱. ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔡𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔊𝔞𝔩𝔟𝔞𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔵. 𝔖𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔰𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔲𝔫𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔦𝔫𝔰𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔱𝔶. 

Eragon tensed slightly at this, but said nothing. Saphira, however, asked another question. Why do you choose to help us now, with such atrocities upon your conscience?

The King of Negativity considered this, falling silent.

He didn't respond, not until after Eragon found the kitchen. 

ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔶𝔢𝔱 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴. 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 ℑ 𝔳𝔦𝔢𝔴 𝔄𝔩𝔞𝔤𝔞ë𝔰𝔦𝔞 𝔞𝔰 𝔞 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢𝔤𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔢𝔴. 𝔗𝔯𝔲𝔱𝔥𝔣𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔶, ℑ 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢𝔫'𝔱 𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔶 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔰, 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔰𝔨𝔢𝔡 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫. He finally answered.

That is curious. Eragon commented, picking at a fish and mashed potato absentmindedly. Saphira kept her eye out, growling at everyone that approached him. He randomly thought of Murtaugh, causing Nightmare to sigh inwardly in sadness.

You knew he would die, didn't you? He asked hurtfully. Nightmare hesitated. ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔡. ℑ𝔫 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔱, ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰… He froze. 

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱. 𝔓𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔫𝔢𝔦𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔲𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱. 

Fine. 

Eragon turned to Saphira, addressing both of them. Who do you think has the means to take control of the Varden now that Ajihad and the Twins are gone? 

𝔍ö𝔯𝔪𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔲𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔬𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫. 𝔊𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔪𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔯𝔶 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔡, 𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔞 𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔟𝔦𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔶, 𝔲𝔫𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔣𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔰 𝔴𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔠𝔲𝔯𝔯𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔩𝔶 𝔲𝔫𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔬𝔣. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞𝔩𝔰𝔬 𝔄𝔧𝔦𝔥𝔞𝔡'𝔰 𝔡𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯. 𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤, 𝔶𝔢𝔰, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔞 𝔟𝔯𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯. 

They blinked, then Saphira added another option. It is possible you could as well, Eragon. As well as Error or you, Nightmare. Though Eragon stands a greater chance, because one could interpret Ajihad's last words as a blessing to secure the leadership. However, and I sense Nightmare agrees with me, that does not seem like a wise path to take. I see only trouble in that direction.

ℑ𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔡, 𝔰𝔨𝔲𝔩𝔟𝔩𝔞𝔨𝔞. 𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔬𝔫𝔢, 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔞 𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔬 𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔢 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔟𝔢 𝔲𝔫𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔤𝔬 𝔱𝔬 𝔈𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔪é𝔯𝔞 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔱𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔰 𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡, 𝔟𝔢𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔞 ℜ𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔯. 

Yes. And Arya wouldn't approve, she could be a dangerous enemy. Elves can't lie in the Ancient Language, but they have no such inhibition in ours- she could deny that Ajihad ever uttered those words if it served her purposes, and without you to back me up Nightmare, they would believe her. No, I don't want the position… So that still leaves Jörmundur.

Ajihad did call him his right hand man. Unfortunately, we know little about him or the Varden's other leaders. Such a short time has passed since we arrived here and as Nightmare pointed out, we don't know the history or other factors of choosing a successor. We must base our judgement upon our feelings and impressions, without the benefits of said history. Saphira explained.

𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔫 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔨𝔶 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢. Nightmare commented softly. 𝔅𝔲𝔱, he added. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔪𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔫'𝔱 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔢𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔣 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔰. 𝔗𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔰𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫. ℌ𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔤𝔞𝔯 𝔡𝔬𝔢𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔯𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔩𝔦𝔨𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔭𝔭𝔬𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔠𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔠𝔢 𝔥𝔦𝔪 𝔱𝔬 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔢 𝔩𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔰𝔲𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔟𝔩𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔢𝔫. 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔩𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔴𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔞 𝔰𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰; 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔴𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔬𝔣 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔰 𝔲𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔬𝔦𝔠𝔢 𝔥𝔞𝔰 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔪𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢 𝔴𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔰. He counseled.

And who might that be? Eragon quested.

A person easily manipulated. Saphira answered.

Eragon closed his eyes and rubbed his temples as they continued discussing the situation before them. Then Saphira interrupted the other two.

Eragon, there is someone here to see you. I can't scare him away.

Eh? The human blinked his eyes open, squinting at the brightness of the room. A pale, nervous young boy was staring at Saphira in fear, as though expecting she would eat him. 

"What is it?" Eragon asked gently.

The kid flinched, perturbed, then bowed at him. "You have been summoned, Argetlam, to speak before the Council of Elders." 

"Who are they?" Eragon asked without batting an eye.

The kid looked slightly bewildered as he stuttered through his next sentence. "The- council is… are… people we- that is, the Varden- choose to speak our behalf to Ajihad. They were his trusted advisors, and now they wish to see you. It is a great honor!" He grinned for a second. 

"Are you to lead me to them?" Eragon further inquired. 

"Yes, I am." 

Saphira gave Eragon a curious look and he shrugged at her, leaving the half-finished plate and waving at the kid to continue. As he followed the boy, the child eyed Zar'roc, eyes gleaming curiously before glancing away out of shyness.

"What are you called?" Eragon asked kindly, breaking the tension.

"Jarsha, sir." 

"That's a good name. You carried your message well; you should be proud." 

That put a big smile on the boy's face and a bounce in his step. 

They arrived at a circular door, which Jarsha heaved open. The room inside was just as convex, a dome above depicting constellations. At the massive round table in the middle of the room engraved with the hammer and stars of the Dûrgrimst Ingietum sat Jörmundur, the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya, two other men as well as two women, a tall and a wide one dressed in pitiful attempts to appear beautiful.

"You may go." Jörmundur informed Jarsha, the kid bowing before skipping out of the room. Eragon took in the details of the chamber before taking a seat in the middle of the Wyrdaí Islingrya, between Geno and Cross. The rest of the council members had to turn their seats to look at him, and it gave Nightmare a sliver of satisfaction. Jörmundur got up, giving Eragon and Error two half bows before reseating himself. 

"Thank you for coming, Eragon, Lord Error, and Wyrdaí Islingrya, even though you have suffered your own losses. This is Umérth," he gestured at the tall one, "Falberd," wide human; "and Sabrae and Elessari" the tall and fat women. 

Eragon dipped his head, asking. "And what of the Twins, were they part of this council?" 

Sabrae quickly shook her head. "They had naught to do with us. They were slime- worse than slime- leeches that worked only for their own benefit. They had no desire to serve the Varden. Thus, they had no place in this council." 

ℑ𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔡𝔦𝔰𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔢𝔯𝔣𝔲𝔪𝔢 𝔰𝔪𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔯𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫 𝔣𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰? Nightmare asked, forcing Eragon to hide a smile.

"Enough. We're not here to discuss the Twins." Jörmundur explained. "We face a crisis that must be dealt with quickly and effectively. If we don't choose Ajihad's successor, someone else will. Hrothgar has already contacted us to convey his condolences. While he has been more than courteous, he is sure to be forming his own plans even as we speak. We must also consider Du Vrangr Gata, the magic users. Most of them are loyal to the Varden, but it's difficult to predict their actions even in the best of times. They might decide to oppose our authority for their own advantage. That is why we need your assistance, Error, Eragon, and Wyrdaí Islingrya, to provide the legitimacy required whoever is to take Ajihad's place." 

Falberd struggled to shove himself to his feet, putting his hands on the table. "The five of us have already decided whom to support. There is no doubt among us that it is the right person. But." He lifted one of his sausage fingers. "Before we reveal who it is, you must give us your word of honor that whether you agree or disagree with us, nothing of our discussion will leave this room." 

Some of the Wyrdaí Islingrya shifted in place, Blue already agreeing as the others muttered amongst themselves. "I don't have no fuckin' honor." Red mumbled. Dust and Killer began to agree with him as Geno reluctantly took the oath. 

ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯; 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔡𝔦𝔡 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔰𝔨 𝔪𝔢, 𝔊𝔅, 𝔬𝔯 𝔖𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔞 𝔱𝔬 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔡𝔤𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔶𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔲𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔊𝔅 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔬 𝔪𝔬𝔯𝔢 𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔤𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔩. 𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔪𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 𝔣𝔬𝔬𝔩𝔰. 𝔄𝔩𝔰𝔬 𝔖𝔞𝔭𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔞, 𝔱𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔶𝔯𝔡𝔳𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔯 𝔱𝔬 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢 𝔱𝔬 𝔦𝔱. 𝔗𝔢𝔩𝔩 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔪 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔰 ℑ 𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔥𝔬𝔴 ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢. ℑ 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔢𝔵𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔩𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔯. Nightmare said calmly. 

Saphira complied, all the others falling dead silent as her words sank in. Even Error twisted around to gaze at her. 

Then all of the Wyrdaí Islingrya gave their word to the Council of Elders, Eragon speaking last. "Who do you want to lead the Varden?" 

The answer was short, and simple. 

"Nasuada." 

Error blinked, Red whispering furiously to Killer, who shrugged as Dust silenced them. Geno seemed to think, then regarded the Council as though they were either geniuses or idiots. Nightmare considered this choice. It was a good one, though whether the Council was aware of how suitable she was still seemed up for debate. When he met her not too long ago, he had sensed that she was going to become the leader of the Varden regardless. This only confirmed it. 

Eragon spoke before Error could. "Why not you, Jörmundur? Ajihad called you his right-hand man. Doesn't that mean you should take his place now that he's gone?" 

Error furrowed his non-existent eyebrows as the council shifted uneasily. Jörmundur addressed Eragon carefully. "Because." He gave a meaningful look. "Ajihad was speaking of military matters then, nothing more. Also, I am a member of the council, which only has power because we support one another. It would be foolish and dangerous for one of us to raise himself above the rest." 

They relaxed, Nightmare scoffing. Ha! Saphira noted. He probably would have taken power if it were possible to force the others to back him. Just look at how they eye him. He's like a wolf in their midst. 

𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰, 𝔟𝔲𝔱 ℑ 𝔡𝔬 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔩𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩𝔱𝔶 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔥𝔦𝔪.

Hm. He's a wolf in a pack of jackals. Eragon commented. 

"How much experience does she have?" Cross asked from beside Eragon. Elessari grinned as she shoved her fat bodice onto the table, leaning forward. "I had already been here for seven years when Ajihad joined the Varden. I've watched Nasuada grow up from a darling girl to the woman she is. A trifle light-headed occasionally, but a good figure to lead the Varden. The people will love her. Now I," she pat her oversized rump happily, Nightmare even noticed Error's disgust as it faintly jiggled. "And my friends will be here to guide her through these troubled times. She will never be without someone to show her the way. Inexperience should be no barrier to her taking her rightful position." 

They want a puppet! Eragon exclaimed mentally, Nightmare taking note of the derision some of his men directed at the council, Geno's face morphing into disdain. Error wasn't impressed, fiddling with some of his strings. 

"Ajihad's funeral will be held in two days." Umérth added. "Directly afterward, we plan to appoint Nasuada as our new leader. We have yet to ask her, but she will surely agree. We want you to be present at the appointing- no one, not even Hrothgar, can complain about it then- and swear fealty to the Varden. That will give back the confidence Ajihad's death has stolen from the people, and prevent anyone from trying to splinter the organization." 

Several skeletons' eyelights flared in aggression, Red needing Fresh to slap his hand over his teeth to prevent the edgy Sans from shouting as Dust and Killer went stiff. Horror's eyesockets narrowed, Geno furrowing his non-existent eyebrows. Error's eyelights vanished briefly, Chaos complaining hotly to her father. GB was staring at Blue, the pair clearly locked in a silent debate as Eragon raged mentally. 

Notice, they don't want you to swear to Nasuada- just to the Varden. Saphira reminded him.

Yes, and they want to be the ones to appoint Nasuada, which would indicate that the council is more powerful than she. They could have asked Arya to appoint her, but that would mean acknowledging their superiority over Nasuada, gain control over all of us over fealty, and also get the benefit of having a Rider endorse Nasuada in public.

"What makes you +hïπ[{ any of the Wyrdaí Islingrya should swear fealty to the Varden?" Error asked calmly, voice briefly glitching, eliciting a flinch from some of them. "The Eldjierdar already follow me, and the Wyrdvrangr follow Nightmare, who is unfortunately not as present as any of us could wish at the moment." 

"Yes, we are sorry to hear of his death." Sombrae inclined her head. Error scoffed loudly.

"You misheard. He is not as present as he wants to be, but he has joined us in this meeting today." 

"He has? I haven't seen him." Jörmundur commented. 

Nightmare reached out with his power and dimmed the lights in the room, changing them to illuminate blue and violet for a brief moment before they returned to normal. The council members all paled as the skeletons and Temmie grinned. 

"But we heard he was stabbed through the heart? Or.. your equivalent of a heart?" Umérth asked slowly. 

"That would be Soul." Geno explained. "And yes, he was." "But gods don't die." Error stated flatly.

"Gods?" Falberd questioned hesitantly.

"Yes. I'm afraid there's a lot you don't know. Where we come from, there are gods. Many different types and levels. Nightmare is on the lesser end of the major gods in the physical realm, from the Multiverse. He is the Guardian of Negativity, and part of a very famous balance, the Emotional balance. I too, am a god of the physical plane, though one of the major gods, and am more famously known for that fact, as many, and I mean many, have tried to kill me in the past. Especially my very ignorant counterpart, Ink. I suppose I should clear this up for you. I am Error, god of destruction. 

As for other gods, there are only a few more powerful than me, and those consist of the incorporeal gods. The only one I actually know of is Fate. She made me who I am. I only exist because Ink, my counterpart, god of creation, was creating too many worlds, or AU's, and was overfilling the Multiverse. They would crash into one another and destroy everything. So I was taken, made into a god, and forced into my occupation. Fortunately and unfortunately, I was sent here, along with most of the Wyrdaí Islingrya present at this moment. I got a break from destroying and fighting Ink, but bad news is; no one is stopping him from creating or dealing with his creations. He's going to inadvertently destroy everything he's trying to 'protect'. Horribly ironic, I know." He leaned back, arms behind his skull.

"Error, you just turned that into your life story. You barely explained gods at all." Geno explained quietly. Error facepalmed. "[)âmπī+, got carried away." He rubbed his skull, then spoke again. "Fate and her ilk are the most powerful of the gods. They are the incorporeal, too powerful to even exist in the mortal realm. Just below them are creation and destruction, aka me and Ink. We are the first of the physical gods, and are not just immortal, but unkillable. Period. Ink was created by Fate from what I know, and Fate stole me from a mortal life in some random AU, I don't remember, and forced me into a sort of godhood after I don't know HOW long in my old prison, an empty place of white I like to call the Anti-Void. It's just endless white and silence… if you don't count the screaming voices and my own decorations." 

"Error." Geno reminded him. 

"Hey, I'm trying." 

"Anyway, discounting a bunch of currently unimportant gods and whatnot, Nightmare is below me, though sometimes he gets weird.." Geno nudged him. 

"Right. He protects the Emotional balance just like I do the creation/destruction balance. Both our counterparts don't understand that too much of them is bad. My counterpart being Ink. Nightmare's and his brother, Dream. Dream is able to make you.. positive. He also is the one that visits you when you sleep, should he choose to. But mostly he just gives you- heh- sweet dreams. Anyway, he protects the Multiverse by keeping the positivity stable, though he seems to think it's a good idea to keep everyone happy all the time. Happiness is pointless without sadness. And vice versa… and that's the simple explanation for ya." 

"But the so-called good guys weren't even there when anyone of us needed them the most." Chaos muttered. "And they… dislike, that is the nicer way of describing of what I really feel about them without getting my mouth washed out with soap, my Father, Nightmare and his group, because they have to do some of the nastier things that kept everyone alive, and they didn't even care to ask them for the reasons why they do it. Dream and Ink tend to see the world in black and white, while we see the greys in between the black and the white."

She noticed the council staring at her and she grinned back at them. There were a lot of teeth in that smile. "Oh, and please continue with what you were telling us, and don't mind me, I tend to get lost in my thoughts sometimes…."

"So, now that we've gotten that out of the way." Dust said a little loudly. "I think I speak for all of us Wyrdaí Islingrya when I say we decline your offer." Cross cleared his throat. "But again, we don't speak for Eragon and Saphira." Geno sighed, an annoyed look on his face for a moment. "We'll respect Nasuada and the Varden with our appearence, but you cannot expect an entire race to swear fealty to you. We are looking out for ourselves. Eragon is our ticket in doing that." "So no hard feelings." Fresh finished with a dark smile.

The room grew still momentarily, then the council seemed to regretfully agree. But then like a pack of scavengers, they faced Eragon. 

"Dear Rider, do you accept our offer?" Elessari asked with an all too knowing smile.

𝔄𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫𝔶, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. ℑ𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔚𝔶𝔯𝔡𝔞, ℑ 𝔣𝔢𝔢𝔩 𝔦𝔱. ℑ 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔑𝔞𝔰𝔲𝔞𝔡𝔞 𝔦𝔰 𝔦𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔴𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔴𝔢 𝔞𝔩𝔩 𝔫𝔢𝔢𝔡, 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥 ℑ 𝔠𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔰𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔥𝔬𝔴. 𝔇𝔬 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔪𝔢? 

Perhaps something will occur between now and then that will change our position… Arya may have a solution to this trouble of swearing fealty. Saphira added to Nightmare's counsel.

Abruptly, Eragon nodded and spoke. "As you wish; I shall attend Nasuada's appointment." 

Jörmundur visibly relaxed. "Good, good. Then we only have one more matter to deal with before you go: Nasuada's acceptance. There's no reason to delay, with all of us here. I'll send for her immediately. And Arya too- we need the elves' approval before making this decision public. It shouldn't be difficult to procure; Arya cannot go against our council, Eragon,l and the Wyrdaí Islingrya. She will have to agree with our judgement." 

"Wait." Elessari insisted, a dark gleam in her eyes. "Your word, though, Rider. Will you give it in fealty at the ceremony?" 

"Yes, you must do that." Falberd agreed eagerly. "The Varden would be disgraced if we couldn't provide you every protection." 

A nice way to put it! Eragon scoffed mentally.

It was worth a try. I fear you have no choice now. Saphira explained as Nightmare thought to himself carefully.

They wouldn't dare harm us if I refused. Eragon countered.

No, but they could cause us no end of grief. It is not for my own sake that I say accept, but for yours. Many dangers exist that I and the Wyrdaí Islingrya cannot protect you from, Eragon. With Galbatorix set against us, you need allies, not enemies, around you. We cannot afford to contend with both the Empire and the Varden.

𝔄𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔢, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. 𝔗𝔯𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔤𝔢𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡.

"I'll give it." 

The whole table either relaxed or tensed up. The monsters gave Eragon looks of concern or outright shot him stares of are you crazy?! while the Council of Elders showed overwhelming relief.

They're afraid of us! Eragon realized incredulously.

As well as they should be. Saphira responded darkly.

ℑ𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔡, ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔦𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔱𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔢𝔢𝔫.

Jörmundur summoned Jarsha and sent him after Nasuada and Arya, then the meeting room lapsed into silence, save for the faint whispers of the Wyrdaí Islingrya as they discussed what just occurred amongst themselves, asking Eragon a few questions that he refused to answer as he focused on his dilemma. Nightmare did his best to explain his reasoning to the human and dragon.

Then the door opened once again, revealing Nasuada in a jet black dress interrupted by a slash of royal purple and Arya directly behind her, Jasha staring open-mouthed at the sight of the elf. Then he was dismissed, the boy scuttling off as Jörmundur helped Nasuada to a seat. Eragon offered the same for Arya, but she ignored the chair and stood beside the table.

Saphira, let her know all that's happened. I have a feeling the council won't inform her that they've compelled me to give the Varden my loyalty. 

Jörmundur spoke up. "Arya." He acknowledged her, then facing the young woman. "Nasuada, Daughter of Ajihad, the Council of Elders wishes to formally extend it's deepest condolences for the loss you, more than anyone else, have suffered…" His voice dropped in volume. "You have our personal sympathies as well. We all know what it is like to have a family member killed by the Empire." 

"Thank you." She dropped her gaze, shy and vulnerable in demeanor. Jörmundur continued. "Although this is your time of mourning, a quandary exists that you must resolve. This council cannot lead the Varden. And someone must replace your father after the funeral. We ask that you receive the position. As his heir, it is rightfully yours- the Varden expect it of you." 

Her eyes glimmered with a few tears as she dipped her head. Her voice shook as she answered. "I never thought I would be called upon to take my father's place so young. Yet… if you insist it is my duty… I will embrace the office." 

The Council of Elders all burst into big grins, glad that Nasuada accepted. Jörmundur went on. "We do insist, for your own good and the good of the Varden," the others inserted their support. Nasuada just smiled sadly. Sabrae shot Eragon and the Wyrdaí Islingrya a look upon seeing them not partake in it.

Eragon was busy studying Arya as they spoke, though she revealed nothing in her demeanor.

However, Nightmare sensed great rage boiling within the Elf, mutely warning Eragon.

Falberd suddenly addressed Arya. "Will the elves find this agreeable?"

She just stared at him. For a full thirty seconds. When he started shifting uncomfortably, she lifted an eyebrow and responded.

"I cannot speak for my queen, but I find nothing objectionable to it. Nasuada has my blessing." 

How can she find it otherwise, knowing what we've told her? Eragon complained miserably. We're backed into corners.

𝔔𝔲𝔦𝔱 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔴𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. 𝔖𝔥𝔢 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔞𝔰 𝔪𝔢𝔢𝔨 𝔞𝔰 𝔰𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔪𝔰. ℑ 𝔰𝔢𝔫𝔰𝔢 𝔴𝔢 𝔞𝔯𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔡𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔱𝔲𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔰 𝔱𝔬 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔬 𝔣𝔞𝔯. ℭ𝔞𝔩𝔪 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣, 𝔦𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔢𝔫𝔡.

... Very well.

"Would you leave me now? I need time to consider how best to honor my father and serve the Varden. You have given me much to ponder." Nasuada brought them from their thoughts. Umérth appeared ready to protest this, but then Falberd waved him off. "Of course, whatever will give you peace. If you need help, we are ready and willing to serve." He made his exit, the rest of the council following as the Wyrdaí Islingrya started getting up.

"Eragon, Wyrdaí Islingrya, will you please stay?" 

They all were a tad surprised, but complied. Dust put his feet on the table, Error still stiff as Geno patted him so he would relax. As the others filed out slowly and reluctantly, Nasuada faced those left over with a measure of worry and even apprehension. 

"So we meet again, Rider. All of you; you haven't greeted me. Have I offended you?"

"Nah kid, all of us are fine." Horror responded easily. Red spoke next. "Personally, I was sizing ya up. I'm curious about you." 

Dust waved boredly. "We all know that you are special." He glanced at Geno, who finished. "But I think I speak for us all when I say we can't tell what exactly makes you special." 

Eragon dipped his head. "No, none of us are offended. I myself was reluctant to speak for fear of being rude or foolish. Current circumstances are unkind to hasty statements." 

He paused, hit with sudden paranoia. He quickly reached his own magic and spoke a line of words. "Atra nosu waíse vardo fra eld hórnya… There, now we may speak without being overheard by man, dwarf, or elf." The monsters smiled or nodded, Chaos giggling a little as Nasuada dropped her shoulders. In a stronger voice she spoke. "Thank you, Eragon. You don't know what a gift that is." 

Saphira rose from her seat behind her human and monsters and approached Nasuada. She dipped her head until their eyes met, staring at the young woman for a whole minute, then snorting and moving away. 

Tell her that I grieve for her loss. Also that her strength must become the Varden's when she assumes Ajihad's mantle. They will need a sure guide. 

Eragon relayed Saphira's thoughts and added. "Ajihad was a great man- his name will always be remembered… There is something I must tell you. Before Ajihad died, he charged me, commanded me, to keep the Varden from falling into chaos." 

"Me?" "No, be quiet." Geno smacked Chaos's hand with a sharp glare, Eragon ignoring the interruption. 

"Those were his last words. Arya and Nightmare heard them as well. I was going to keep it a secret because of the implications, but you have a right to know. I'm not sure what Ajihad meant, nor exactly what he wanted, but I am certain of this: I will always defend the Varden with my powers. I want you to understand that, and that I've no desire to usurp the Varden's leadership." 

Nasuada abruptly laughed, the sound harsh. "But that leadership isn't to be me, is it?" She kept her composure, but Determination seemed to shine in her eyes. "I know why you were here before me and what the council is trying to do. Do you think that in the years I served my father, we never planned for this eventuality? I expected the council to do exactly what it did. And now everything is in place for me to take command of the Varden." 

"Oh my God." Killer breathed.

"You're amazing." Chaos grinned.

"You have officially earned my respect." Dust spoke seriously, straightening.

"And that, is obviously what we were sensing from you." Error said with a smile.

"You have no intention of letting them rule you." Eragon let a chuckle escape him.

"No." She told them, smiling a little at the praise. "Continue to keep Ajihad's instruction secret. It would be unwise to bandy it about, as people might take it to mean that he wanted you to succeed him, and that would undermine my authority and destabilize the Varden. He said what he thought he had to in order to protect the Varden. I would have done the same. My father…" She hesitated. "My father's work will not go unfinished, even if it takes me to the grave. That is what I want you, as a Rider, and you, as his guardians, to understand. All of Ajihad's plans, all his strategies and goals, they are mine now. I will not fail him by being weak. The Empire will be brought down, Galbatorix will be dethroned, and the rightful government will be raised." 

A lone tear traced her face as she ended her monologue, and Nightmare wished he could praise this woman as Eragon began to appreciate the new side to Nasuada.

"And what of me, Nasuada? And the Wyrdaí Islingrya? What shall we do in the Varden?" 

She stared at all of them before facing Eragon again. "You can do whatever you want. The council members are fools if they think to control you. You, Eragon, are a hero to the Varden and the dwarves, and even the elves will hail your victory over Durza when they hear of it. If you go against the council or me, we will be forced to yield, for the people will support you wholeheartedly. Right now, you are the most powerful person in the Varden. However, if you accept my leadership, I will continue the path laid down by Ajihad: you will go with Arya to the elves, be instructed there, then return to the Varden. All of this applies for the Wyrdaí Islingrya as well, to a point. I understand that you follow Eragon as his guardians and supporters, so you are following him to Ellesméra?" She directed at the monsters.

"Most of us." Dust explained. "Error and the Eldjierdar are planning to remain here with the Varden to assist wherever and however we can." Geno started. Error picked up the conversation. "However, we are sending Blue and GB -who recently decided he follows us- with the Wyrdvrangr to go with Eragon to the elves. As envoys, you could say." 

Even Blue understood that Error just thought it was safer for his sake, rolling his eyelights discreetly at the plan but not arguing with it.

"So you accept my leadership?" Nasuada questioned. Error blinked. "I believe you are the rightful leader for the Varden. I will support you and do my best to listen, though if I feel you are not making the right decision I will refuse, though I don't believe that situation will happen." He chose his words carefully. Nightmare was kind of proud of that, despite himself. Nasuada nodded. "That is reasonable, Lord Error."

"Please." Error said tiredly. "Skip the damn formalities. They make me itch. Just call me Error. I don't like the Lord crap. I'll take from the others, but not from you, okay?" 

"I will keep that in mind, Error." 

"Thanks." 

During this short conversation, Eragon, Saphira, and Nightmare were having a silent discussion between each other, before Eragon made a rather brilliant suggestion on his part. Nightmare would've smiled if he could have, he could feel Wyrda moving again as Saphira gave her consent to the human's decision.

So Eragon stood, drawing out Zar'roc and approaching Nasuada. The Wyrdaí Islingrya all kinda fell silent in confusion as they watched this, noting Nasuada's sudden fear, reaching into her dress and grabbed what was presumably a knife. Eragon paid no heed to this, instead choosing to kneel before her, blade flat across his hands.

"Nasuada," he raised his voice. "The Wyrdaí Islingrya, Saphira and I have been here for only a short while. But in that time I believe we have all come to respect Ajihad, and now, in turn, you. You fought under Farthen Dûr when others fled, including the two women of the council, and have treated us openly instead of with deception. Therefore, I offer you my blade… and my fealty as a Rider." 

Killer let out a long, drawn-out gasp before Red punched him lightly, some of the others glaring at him. Nasuada blinked, working her mouth in shock before delicately taking the handle of Zar'roc and studying it's bloody blade as she rested the tip on Eragon's bowed head. 

"I do accept your fealty with honor, Rider, as you accept all the responsibilities accompanying the station. Rise as my vassal and take your sword." 

Eragon complied, then explained. "Now I can tell you openly as my master, the council made me agree to swear to the Varden once you were appointed. This was the only way Saphira and I could circumvent them." 

Nasuada laughed as Geno pointed out. "And I think you couldn't have made a better decision! It's honestly probably best you don't follow either Eldjierdar or Wyrdvrangr in the end, anyway." 

"Yes, I see you have already learned how to play our game." Nasuada went on. Very well, as my newest and only vassal, will you agree to give your fealty to me again- in public, when the council expects your vow?" 

"Of course." 

"Good, that will take care of the council. Now, until then, leave me. I have much planning to do, and I must prepare for the funeral… Remember, Eragon, the bond we have just created is equally binding; I am as responsible for your actions as you are required to serve me. Do not dishonor me." 

"Nor you I." 

She paused thoughtfully, furrowing her brow. Her voice went soft. "You have my condolences, Eragon. I realize that others beside myself have cause for sorrow; while I have lost my father, you have also lost a friend. I liked Murtaugh a great deal and it saddens me that he is gone… goodbye Eragon." She glanced at the rest, waiting expectantly with smiles on all their faces.

"You may all go." 

Together, dragon, human, and Wyrdaí Islingrya left the meeting room, processing what had happened. A lot had just occurred, and the day was still so young. 

Saphira nosed Eragon. This way. She started down to the right, confusing everyone with her lack of explanation. When pressed, she provided them with nothing, so the team gave up and followed.

Things have certainly changed for us. Eragon started with her casually. I never know what to expect from one day to the next- except sorrow and bloodshed. 

𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔱𝔯𝔲𝔢, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. 𝔇𝔬 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔱 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰 𝔭𝔬𝔦𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲. 

Indeed, all is not bad. We have won a great victory. It should be celebrated, not mourned. 

It doesn't help, having to deal with all this other nonsense. Eragon complained wearily. 

Saphira huffed angrily, a tiny jet of flame darting from her nostrils and singeing Eragon's shoulder, enticing a yelp from the human as Killer snirked, Dust patting her side as Red softly cheered it on.

Oops. Saphira apologized as Eragon shot her and angry look.

Oops! You nearly roasted my side! 

I didn't expect it to happen. I keep forgetting that fire will come out if I'm not careful. Imagine that every time you raised your arm, lightning struck the ground. It would be easy to make a careless motion and destroy something unintentionally. 

A few of the others laughed at her strange comparison as Error and Nightmare actually found it accurate.

You're right… sorry I growled at you.

She winked at him. No matter. The point I was trying to make is that even Nasuada can't force you to do anything.

He stared at her. But I gave my word as a Rider!

Maybe so, but if I must break it to keep you safe, I will not hesitate. It is a burden I could easily carry. Because I'm joined to you, my honor is inherent to your pledge, but as an individual, I am not bound by it. If I must, I will kidnap you. I am sure even Nightmare would help me, should he agree with my reasons.

𝔜𝔢𝔰. ℑ 𝔴𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔪𝔬𝔰𝔱 𝔠𝔢𝔯𝔱𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔬 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔪𝔶𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔣, 𝔰𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 ℑ 𝔡𝔢𝔢𝔪 𝔦𝔱 𝔫𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔞𝔯𝔶.

Any disobedience then would be no fault of your own.

Eragon stewed over this. 

It should never come to that. If we have to use such tricks to do what's right, then Nasuada and the Varden will have lost all integrity.

They halted at a grand archway, leading to a glorious library that sent Nightmare into a moment of furious excitement.

𝔒𝔬𝔬𝔬𝔬𝔬𝔥𝔥𝔥𝔥 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨𝔰! 𝔒𝔥 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔥 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔥 𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔥 𝔪𝔶 𝔰𝔬 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔶!! 𝔒𝔥, ℑ 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔰𝔭𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔞 𝔡𝔢𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔯 𝔰𝔬 𝔦𝔫 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢!! 𝔒𝔥 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔟𝔢𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔦𝔣𝔲𝔩 𝔠𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔨𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔭𝔞𝔤𝔢𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔥𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔶! 𝔏𝔢𝔱 𝔪𝔢 𝔤𝔞𝔷𝔢 𝔲𝔭𝔬𝔫 𝔶𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔰𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔭𝔩𝔢𝔞𝔰𝔢!

Saphira glanced at Eragon, concerned. 

Is Nightmare alright?

I think so?

The King of Negativity composed himself.

𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤. 𝔑𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫𝔤. ℑ 𝔤𝔬𝔱 𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔡 𝔞𝔴𝔞𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢. ℑ 𝔞𝔪 𝔣𝔦𝔫𝔢. ℑ 𝔧𝔲𝔰𝔱 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔶 𝔡𝔬 𝔞𝔭𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔟𝔬𝔬𝔨𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔰𝔲𝔠𝔥.

Well. I knew you liked them a great deal, but that was a lot more than I expected. Eragon admitted. Nightmare struggled to explain himself, before grumbling.

𝔏𝔢𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔪𝔢 𝔟𝔢 𝔴𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔪𝔶 𝔬𝔟𝔰𝔢𝔰𝔰𝔦𝔬𝔫. 

Eragon smirked, then let it fade as Saphira led him to an alcove, whereupon Arya sat. The rest of them saw this and a few just shrugged and teleported away, leaving Error, Geno, Blue and GB to watch what would come next.

"What have you done?" Arya snapped at Eragon, alarmingly aggressive. 

"How so?" Eragon tried to remain placid.

She tensed, unbelievably angry and barely controlling it.

"What have you promised the Varden? What have you done?" She hissed, ending with her words worming into Eragon's mind. He was hit with a wave of fear when he realized how unstable she was. Nightmare quietly assured him that the others would protect him if it came to that.

"We only did what we had to. I'm ignorant of elves' customs, so if our actions upset you, I apologise. There's no cause to be angry." 

This only made it worse. Arya clenched her fists.

"Fool! You know nothing about me! I have spent seven decades representing my queen here- fifteen years of which I bore Saphira's egg between the Varden and the elves. In all that time, I struggled to ensure the Varden had wise, strong leaders who could resist Galbatorix and respect our wishes. Brom helped me by forging the agreement concerning the new Rider- you. Ajihad had committed to your remaining independent so that the balance of power would not be upset. Now I see you siding with the Council of Elders, willingly or not, to control Nasuada! You have overturned a lifetime of work! What have you done?!" 

Horrified, Eragon began explaining as bluntly as possible why he agreed to the council's demands despite his and Saphira's attempts to avoid said fate. Arya listened carefully, gradually calming down.

He completed his explanation.

"So." Arya spoke first.

"So." Eragon repeated.

She leaned back tiredly, keeping her intense eyes on him as she spoke. "Your position is not what I would wish, but better than I had hoped. I was impolite; Saphira… and you… understand more than I thought. Your compromise will be accepted by the elves, though you must never forget your debt to us for Saphira. There would be no Riders without our efforts." 

"The debt is burned into my blood and my palm." Eragon told her, and they fell into silence.

"You must have been gone for such a long time; do you miss Ellesméra? Or did you live elsewhere?" He tried changing the subject.

Her gaze shifted away, blankly staring off into the distance as she thought.

"Ellesméra was, and always shall be, my home. I have not lived in my family's house since I left for the Varden, when the walls and windows were draped in spring's first flowers. The times I've returned were only fleeting stays, vanishing flecks of memory by our measurement." 

Her elegant scent of crushed pine drifted by once again.

"It must be hard to live among all these dwarves and humans without any of your kind." Eragon went on. She looked at him curiously. 

"You speak of humans as if you weren't one."

"Perhaps…" he paused, thinking. "Perhaps I am something else- a mixture of two races. Saphira lives inside me as much as I live in her. We share feelings, senses, thoughts, even to the point where we are more one mind than two." The dragon nodded, almost hitting the table with her muzzle.

"That is how it should be." Arya told them. "A pact more ancient and powerful than you can imagine links you. You won't truly understand what it means to be a Rider until your training is completed. But that must wait until after the funeral. In the meantime, may the stars watch over you." 

She got up and walked away, vanishing within the corridors of the bookshelves. Eragon blinked, Error, Geno, Blue and GB coming out of the shadows, confused.

Is it me, or is everyone on edge today? He quested. Like Arya - one moment she's angry, the next she's giving me a blessing!

No one will be comfortable until things return to normal. Saphira explained.

Define normal.

𝔗𝔥𝔞𝔱'𝔰 𝔭𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔩𝔶 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔠𝔥. Nightmare answered in a low voice.


	3. Roran

A lone, haggard human dragged his feet up a hill, squinting at the sun heading for the horizon.

Five hours till sunset. I won't be able to stay long. He sighed, continuing past long grass and a series of elms. 

His first visit since he and seven others had salvaged everything they could from the wreckage of the house and ashes of the barn.

He stood, rooted in place, shaking every once in a while from memories as he studied the fields of dandelions, wild mustard, grass, beets and turnips that had once been a farm. He was filled with grief.

Groaning, he turned away and headed back to the road, quickly becoming lost in thought. He blamed his cousin, the boy named Eragon, for the destruction and death of his father, Garrow. Because Eragon had brought a blue stone out of the Spine, attracting a dangerous pair of individuals, the bastards destroying everything he treasured and murdering his father.

That wasn't even what ticked him off.

It was the fact that Eragon had simply left. Taking off after the old, scatterbrained storyteller named Brom on some ridiculous journey, Brom having left Gertrude the healer in town a letter that just sounded so preposterous.

And then, there was the matter of rebuilding that farm so he could marry whom he loved. A butcher's daughter named Katrina. He had never been on best terms with her father, Sloan. Rebuilding his barn and home was going to be difficult, most certainly, but he was going to do it.

He arrived at a small village in the evening, a grouping of structures with clotheslines strung between them, fields of wheat surrounding them. A great waterfall cascaded down behind it in the distance, providing a beautiful backdrop to the ordinary village.

Singling out a house on a hill, he sauntered inside the already open door, entering the kitchen. Horst, his heavily pregnant wife Elain, and two sons by the names of Albriech and Baldor noticed his entrance.

"What's going on?" The guest asked.

Elain glanced at her husband before getting up. "Here, let me get you something to eat." She placed cold stew and bread at the table and stared the newcomer in the eyes.

"How was it?" 

He shrugged. "All the wood was either burnt or rotting- nothing worth using. The well was still intact, and that's something to be grateful for, I suppose. I'll have to cut timber for the house as soon as possible if I'm going to have a roof over my head by planting season. Now tell me, what's happened?" 

"Ha! There's been quite a row, there has." Horst began. "Thane is missing a scythe and he thinks Albriech took it."

Said person snorted. "He probably dropped it in the grass and forgot where he left it." 

His father smiled. "Probably." 

The newcomer bit into his bread. "It doesn't make much sense, accusing you." He told Albriech. "If you needed a scythe, you could just forge one." 

"I know." He plopped into a chair. "But instead of looking for his, he starts grousing that he saw someone leaving his field and that it looked a bit like me… and since no one else looks like me, I must have stolen the scythe." 

Which was true. Albriech was a large man with blonde hair, a trait being rare in Carvahall, this village. He got it from his mother.

"I'm sure it'll turn up." The other, quieter son spoke up. "Try not to get too angry over it in the meantime."

Albriech scoffed. "Easy for you to say." 

The guest, Roran, finished the bread and started on the stew, addressing Horst. "Do you need me for anything tomorrow?" 

"Not especially. I'll just be working on Quimby's wagon. The blasted frame still won't sit square." 

"Good. Then I'll take the day and go hunting. There are a few deer farther down the valley that don't look too scrawny. Their ribs aren't showing, at least." 

Baldor was suddenly excited. "Do you want some company?" 

"Sure. We can leave at dawn." 

Roran then stood, cleaning off his face and hands before leaving and heading for the center of town. 

At the halfway point, he paused at the noise of excited voices outside a place called the Seven Sheaves. Now curious, he strolled to the tavern, finding a middle-aged trapper waving wildly as he started talking.

"So when I arrived at Therinsford, I went to this man, Neil. Good, honest man; I help in his fields during the spring and summer."

Roran nodded,the story held up so far. This sounded typical of trappers.

"After a few steins of ale- to lubricate my speaking, you understand, after 'alf year and nary a word uttered, except perhaps for blaspheming the world and all beyond when losing a bear-biter- I come to Neil, the froth still fresh on my beard, and start exchanging gossip. As our transaction proceeds, I ask him all gregarious like, what news of the Empire or the king- may he rot with gangrene and trench-mouth. Was anyone born or died or banished that I know of? Neil leaned forward, going all serious 'bout the mouth, and said that the word is going around, there is, from Dras-Leona and Gil'ead of strange happenings here, there, and everywhere in Alagaësia. The Urgals have fair disappeared from civilized lands, and good riddance, but not one man can tell why or where. 'Alf the trade in the Empire has dried up as a result of raids and attacks and, from what I've heard, it isn't the work of mere brigands, for the attacks are too widespread, too calculated. No goods are stolen, only burned or soiled. But that's not the end of it, oh no, not by the tip of your blessed grandmother's whiskers." 

He shook his head before downing some more from his wineskin. 

"There be mutterings of a Shade haunting the northern territories. He's been seen along the edge of Du Weldenvarden and near Gil'ead. They say his teeth are filed to points, his eyes are as red as wine, and his hair is as red as the blood he drinks. Worse, something seems to have gotten our fine, mad monarch's dander up, so it has. Five days past, a juggler from the south stopped in Therinsford on his lonesome way to Ceunon, and he said that troops have been moving and gathering, though for what was beyond him."

The trapper shrugged carelessly. "As my pap taught me when I was a suckling babe, where there's smoke, there's fire. Perhaps it's the Varden. They've caused old Iron Bones enough pain in the arse over the years. Or perhaps Galbatorix finally decided he's had enough of tolerating Surda. At least he knows where to find it, unlike those rebels. He'll crush Surda like a bear crushes an ant, he will." 

Roran blinked as he thought about this in the ensuing uproar. The stories of the Shade sounded ridiculous, though the rest sounded quite real and concerning. If there was going to be war, it would make small town's live all the more difficult with increasing taxes and forced enlistment in with the army. 

The trapper snorted. "What's more, there have even been tales of…" He paused, smirking. "Strange creatures with magic akin to the elves, made not of flesh but something else. Where they came from is unknown, just as much as what they want. Perhaps they're here to wipe us mankind off of Alagaësia. Mayhaps they come from across the sea! Or the lands beyond to the east. I've heard tell that they are like spirits given form, with nary a hair upon them or skin at all, but simply walking bone. They have glowing eyes and speed almost greater than even a horse! Let's pray to the gods they are not real or against us, eh?" 

With that disturbing information, the trapper tapped his nose. "Oh, and there's tales of a new Rider in Alagaësia!" He burst into laughter. Those stories were always wishful thinking. Roran turned to leave, but noticed his love, Katrina standing by a corner within the tavern in a graceful russet dress and green ribbon. Her eyes met his with equal intensity. He approached her, touching her shoulder before the lovers slipped away into the evening darkness.

They gazed up at the skies at the edge of Carvahall as Katrina asked him something. "How was your day?"

"I returned home."

She stiffened. "What was it like?" 

His voice caught as he responded. "Terrible." He took in a deep breath of her spice and wine scented copper hair. 

"The house, the barn, the fields, they're all being overrun… I wouldn't have found them if I didn't know where to look." 

She faced him, sorrow gleaming in her eyes like the stars. "Oh, Roran." Their lips met in a brief, tender kiss. "You have endured so much loss, and yet your strength has never failed you. Will you return to your farm now?" 

"Aye. Farming is all I know." 

"And what shall become of me?" 

He hesitated. They both knew without question they were going to marry, yet her question didn't sit right with him. Even so, he had to deal with her insecurities now.

"Katrina… I cannot approach your father as I had planned. He would laugh at me, and rightly so. We have to wait. Once I have a place and I've collected my first harvest, then he will listen to me." 

She turned her gaze back up to the stars, whispering too low for him to hear.

"What?" 

"I said, are you afraid of him?" 

"Of course not! I-"

"Then you must get his permission, tommorow, and set the engagement. Make him understand that, though you have nothing now, you will give me a good home and be a son-in-law he can be proud of. There's no reason we should waste our years living apart when we feel like this." 

His voice turned to dispair. "I can't do that! I can't provide for you, I can't-" 

"Don't you understand?" She took a step back, her words strained as a few tears slicked down her cheeks. "I love you, Roran, and I want to be with you, but Father has other plans for me. There are far more eligible men than you, and the longer you delay, the more he presses me to consent to a match of which he approves. He fears I will become an old maid, and I fear that too. I have only so much time or choice in Carvahall… If I must take another, I will." 

Crying now, she searched his disbelieving face before gathering up her skirt and taking off.

Roran stood there, frozen for some hours in shock. He was cold from the revelation, as though part of him had been torn asunder.

After a long while, the village shrouded in darkness, he made his way back to Horst's and collapsed into bed.

……

The ground was crunching beneath their feet in the early hours of the morning, the air brisk from the night's chill. Baldor trailed behind Roran as both searched for deer. 

"There." Baldor pointed out with a whisper, a set of tracks reasonably fresh leading towards a bramble besides the river, Anora. 

Since it seemed about a day's age, Roran deemed it safe to speak.

"Could I have your advice, Baldor? You seem to have a good understanding of people." 

"Of course. What is it?" 

They plodded on in silence for a while.

"Sloan wants to marry off Katrina, and not to me. Every day that passes increases the chance he will arrange a union to his liking."

"And what does Katrina say of this?" 

He shrugged. "He is her father. She cannot continue to defy his will when no one she does want has stepped forward to claim her."

"That is, you."

"Aye." 

"And that's why you were up so early." 

Both paused. Roran wasn't just up early, he simply hadn't slept the night before.

"I can't bear to lose her. But I don't think Sloan will give his blessing, what with my position and all." 

"No, I don't think he would." Baldor unfortunately agreed. "What is it you want my advice on, though?" 

Roran snorted humorously. "How can I convince Sloan otherwise? How can I resolve this dilemma without starting a blood feud?" He questioned, throwing his hands in the air. "What should I do?" 

"Have you no ideas?" Balder countered calmly.

"I do, but not the sort I find pleasing. It occurred to me that Katrina and I could simply announce we were engaged- not that we are yet- and hang the consequences. That would force Sloan to accept our betrothal." 

Balder furrowed his brow as he thought. "Maybe." He started slowly. "But it would also create a slew of bad feelings throughout Carvahall. Few would approve of your actions. Nor would it be wise to force Katrina to choose between you or her family; she might resent you for it in the years to come." 

"I know, but what alternative do I have?" 

"Before you take such a drastic step, I recommend you try to win Sloan over as an ally. There's a chance you might succeed, after all, if it's made clear to him that no one else will want to marry an angry Katrina. Especially when you're around to cuckold the husband." 

Baldor laughed as Roran grimaced. ""If you fail, well then, you can proceed with confidence, knowing that you have indeed exhausted all other routes. And people will be less likely to spit on you for breaking tradition and more likely to say Sloan's bullheaded ways brought it upon himself." 

"Neither course is easy." Roran spoke through gritted teeth.

Baldor grew somber. "You knew that to begin with. No doubt there'll be harsh words if you challenge Sloan,but things will settle down in the end- perhaps not comfortably, but at least bearably. Aside from Sloan, the only people you'll really offend are prudes like Quimby, though how Quimby can brew such a hale drink yet be so starched and bitter himself is beyond me." 

Roran nodded. In Carvahall, grudges lasted for years. "I'm glad we could talk. It's been…" He stopped, thinking. Remembering Eragon and he. They were once like brothers, always having each other's backs. The absence of someone like that left a terrible void within him. 

Suddenly, a strange scent made the pair stop in their tracks. It was like scorched meat and burning pine. Roran glanced at Baldor. "Smell that?" The young man nodded. Both of them went back to the road and traveled south. 

They paused at a copse of cottonwood, Roran suddenly suspicious. Without a word, he hid in the underbrush and crept closer to the sound. 

"What are you doing?" Baldor asked him. Roran silenced him, so Baldor joined him as they snuck down the path. As they rounded the bend, both froze.

Soldiers. Camped in the grass beside the road, upwards thirty men wearing armor and red tunics, the gold symbol of flame threaded into the outfits. Galbatorix's insignia.

But worse were the horrid pair crouching among the men, twisted and robed in black like unholy things. Roran's blood went cold as he realized who they were. His fingers flew to his quiver as he prepared to take a shot. Baldor grabbed him, tugging him back down. "Don't you'll get us both killed." Roran gave him a death stare, snarling. "That's… they're the bastards…" His hands shook. "They've returned!" 

"Roran." Baldor insisted. "You can't do anything. Look, they work for the king. Even if you managed to escape, you'd be an outlaw everywhere, and you'd bring disaster on Carvahall."

"What do they want? What can they want?" The king. Why did Galbatorix countenance my father's torture? 

If they didn't get what they needed from Garrow, and Eragon fled with Brom, then they must want you." Baldor gave a meaningful pause. "We have to get back and warn everyone. Then you have to hide. The strangers are the only ones with horses. We can get there first if we run." 

Roran eyed the troop hatefully, taking note of a writhing sack beside the strangers with curiosity as he considered.

All he needed to do for vengeance was take one step and shoot his arrows into those bastards. Break cover. Nothing else was necessary.

Roran choked back a sob as he clenched his fists. I can't leave Katrina. He told himself stiffly. Slowly, dreadfully, he backed away. "Home then." He darted off then, not waiting for a response. As soon as they couldn't see the camp anymore, both Roran and Baldor took off running, pushing forward as quickly as possible. Roran slowed only once, so Baldor could catch up. "You spread the word, I'll talk with Horst." Baldor nodded at that and they continued on.

Once the village was in sight, they separated, Roran heading for the forge as Baldor made his way to the center of town. Roran exploded into the forge, gasping for air and interrupting Horst as the man sang.

"What's the matter, lad? Is Baldor hurt?" 

He shook his head, heaving. After a moment, he started explaining bluntly everything that had happened, most importantly how the strangers were agents of the Empire. As he wrapped up his tale, Horst fiddled with his beard thoughtfully.

"You have to leave Carvahall. Fetch some food from the house, then take my mare- Ivor's pulling stumps with her- and ride into the foothills. Once we know what the soldiers want, I'll send Albriech or Baldor with word." 

"What will you say if they ask for me?" 

"That you're out hunting and we don't know when you'll return. It's true enough, and I doubt they'll chance blundering around in the trees for fear of missing you. Assuming it's you they're really after."

Roran gave a Curt nod and took off back towards Horst's house. Inside, he snatched the tack and bags off the wall, tying turnips, beets, jerky, and a loaf of bread in a knot of blankets and grabbing a tin pot, pausing only to explain the situation to Elain before charging out the door.

Carrying the bundle awkwardly, he raced through the village to Ivor's farm. Reaching the farm, he spotted Ivor with the horse, wielding a willow wand as she yanked to uproot an elm from the earth. "Come on now! Put your back into it!" She shuddered, frothing at the mouth as she struggled. With a final charge, she ripped it from it's anchorage. Ivor reined her in as Roran signaled him from afar. 

As he neared them, Roran spoke. "I need to borrow her." Explaining why. Ivor cursed, unhitching the mare as he bemoaned. "Always the moment I get a bit of work done, that's when the interruption comes. Never before." 

He frowned, crossing his arms as Roran busied himself with the saddle. 

When finished, he lept atop the horse, carrying his bow. "I am sorry for the trouble, but it can't be helped."

"Well, don't worry about it. Just make sure you aren't caught." Ivor reassured him.

"I'll do that."

Roran dug his heels into the horse's sides, Ivor calling after him. "And don't be hiding up my creek!" 

He couldn't help but grin, shaking his head and leaning down over the mare's neck as he picked up speed.

Eventually he found a spot where he could watch Carvahall without being spotted, disconcerted by his closeness to the Spine, a dangerous place. He observed as the two columns of soldiers arrived at the edge, stopped by a ragtag group of men, both sides speaking tensely, then just stared at one another before the outsiders were given entrance.

What happens now? Roran asked himself.

Late evening rolled by, the soldiers setting up camp in a nearby field to the village, tents creating a block of grey, shadows dancing as sentries patrolled around the place. It was eerily foreboding.

Roran considered the reasons for the return of the strangers with this oversized company. 

Then he spotted something down the mountain. Someone entered the forest at the lower slopes. Roran crouched behind a boulder with his bow drawn, ready to attack.

Upon recognizing it as Albriech, he gave a low whistle. Said person found him and ducked behind the boulder alongside him. "I thought I'd never find you."

"I'm surprised you did." 

"Can't say I enjoyed wandering through the forest after sundown. I kept expecting to walk into a bear, or worse. The Spine isn't a fit place for men, if you ask me." 

Roran shrugged, glanced back at Carvahall. "So why are they here?" 

"To take you into custody. They're willing to wait as long as they have to for you to return from 'hunting'."

Roran dropped to the ground. "Did they give a reason? Did they mention the stone?" 

Albriech shook his head. "All they would say is that it's the king's business. The whole day they've been asking questions about you and Eragon- it's all they're interested in." He paused. "I'd stay, but they'll notice if I'm missing tomorrow. I brought plenty of food and blankets, plus some of Gertrude's salves in case you injure yourself. You should be fine up here."

Roran smiled in appreciation. "Thanks for the help."

"Anyone would do it." Albriech shrugged modestly. He made to leave, but hesitated.

"By the way, the two strangers… they're called the Ra'zac."


	4. A Promise and a Song

The next morning after the business with the Council of Elders Eragon was caring for Saphira's saddle, talking with Nightmare and surprisingly, Blue and GB when they came to visit. He could afford to relax somewhat as Nightmare was quite capable of blocking most of the pain from his seizures. They still hurt terribly, but it was more than bearable. 

Then Orik showed up, patiently waiting as Eragon oiled a strap. Then he spoke. "Are you better today?"

"For the most part." 

"Good, we all need our strength. I came partly to see to your health and also because Hrothgar wishes to speak with you, if you are free." 

Eragon smiled wryly. "I'm always free for him. He must know that." 

The dwarf laughed. "Ah, but it's polite to ask nicely." 

Eragon set the saddle down as Blue waved, GB smiling in his Blaster form as Saphira stood with a kind growl, the skeletal one stretching in response.

"Morning to you as well." Orik greeted them with a bow before they followed him out of the room and through Tronjhiem, heading for the throne room once again.

Nightmare felt a slight pang as Orik turned away from the main chamber, clearly unwilling to enter the room containing the ruins of the Isidar Mithrim.

At the granite doors, the guards beat their mattocks upon the floor, the entryway opening. Error appeared beside Eragon, looking as though he'd been given a last minute notice. 

Nodding at one another, they advanced into the throne room. 

Upon reaching the end of the hall, Eragon and Blueberry bowed, GB dipping his skull low to the ground as Error nodded. Hrothgar nodded in return, then addressed them.

"Shadeslayer, Lord Error. Welcome to my hall. You have all done much since we last met. And, so it seems, I have been proved wrong about Zar'roc. Morzan's blade will be welcome in Tronjhiem so long as you bear it." 

Eragon thanked him as he stood up. Hrothgar spoke again.

"Also, we wish you to keep the armor you wore in the battle of Farthen Dûr. Even now our most skilled smiths are repairing it. The dragon armor is being treated likewise, and when it is restored, Saphira may use it as long as she wished, or until she outgrows it. This is the least we can do to show our gratitude. If it weren't for the war with Galbatorix, there would be feasts and celebrations in your name… but those must wait for a more appropriate time." 

Eragon nodded gratefully. "You are generous beyond all expectations. We will cherish such noble gifts." Hrothgar inclined his head, pleased. Then addressed Error, Blue and GB. 

"And as for the matter of you. You have done us a great service in fighting with our warriors during the battle, even when others of your kind opposed you. And the new one, the flightless dragon. We are terribly sorry for your mistreatment by Durza's hand. We hope you are forgiving of those in Alagaësia, a Shade is a treacherous evil." 

GB sat down and trilled, nodding at Blue as the smaller skeleton spoke for him. "GB understands. He doesn't hold amenity with anyone but Galbatorix, because Durza was his servant and was unbearably cruel. He also wants to mention that he can have wings sometimes and even fly, it just takes a little more energy to sustain them. He isn't a dragon, either. He's a hybrid formed from descendants back in his world." 

Hrothgar leaned back thoughtfully, rubbing his beard. "There are skeleton relatives of dragons where you come from?" 

"Yes, there are few AU's." Error confirmed. "There are some that are more closely related to dragons than even him, but GB is a powerful hybrid and is more closely related than most." 

Hrothgar seemed to take this into consideration. He raised a silvery brow at the animalistic skeleton, who glanced between him and Blue a little nervously.

"Do you wish to be addressed as a dragon?" The dwarf king asked simply. GB shook his skull, letting Blue explain for him. 

"No, he has never cared much for his lineage, and there are those who are more closely related than he is, as well as true dragons like Saphira. He just wants to help defeat Galbatorix for vengeance." 

"Very well." Hrothgar leaned back once more, tapping his fingers on Volund thoughtfully. "Is it true you shift between shapes? A dragon and a skeleton?" He quested kindly. GB nodded eagerly, inclining his skull at Blue. 

"He still can't speak as we do in his other form, but it doesn't take much effort to change if you prefer it. We all understand that one dragon like Saphira is enough strain on Tronjhiem's resources, and he wouldn't want to worsen that by remaining this size." 

Hrothgar blinked in surprise. "I was not expecting such an offer. Tronjhiem has more than enough to support something of your current size, and it is useful in case of attack that we have a dragon relative at full strength to aid our defense. If that is your decision." 

GB snorted, talons clacking against the stone floor as he thought. Error gave Blue a look after a few seconds, the energetic skeleton nudging the dragonic one. GB blinked, noticing this and glancing at Error with a poorly suppressed shiver. 

Then he spoke in Wingdings. "I'll be traveling with the Wyrdvrangr and Eragon to the elves, so I'd like to conserve your resources. I'll stay small because of that. Trust me, if you are attacked, Error is more than enough as defense. I'm sure you know he's the God of Destruction by now, right?" 

Error glanced away, shamefaced as Blueberry translated. "That doesn't mean I know how to handle armies." He muttered back. GB stared in considerable shock, but looked back to Hrothgar as he formulated his response. 

"Very well. You have made your decision and I find no arguments with your assessment. You will be treated with respect on your stay here, regardless of which form you take. However, we cannot linger on these pleasantries. You all must understand that I am besieged by the clans with their demands that I do one thing or another about Ajihad's successor. When the Council of Elders proclaimed yesterday that they would support Nasuada, it created an uproar the likes of which I haven't seen since I ascended to the throne. The chiefs had to decide whether to accept Nasuada or look for another candidate. Most have concluded that Nasuada should lead the Varden, but I wish to know where the Wyrdaí Islingrya and you, Eragon stand on this before I lend my word to either side. The worst thing a king can do is look foolish."

Eragon consulted Nightmare and Saphira for what to say as Error spoke his mind. "She's a strong and noble human. I support her as leader. She's quite the genius despite her age, too." 

"She's Determined to end Galbatorix, and seems more than considerate for her people; the Varden. If I can't trust her, I'm not sure who I could." Berry admitted a little awkwardly, while listening to what GB had to say on the matter.

Eragon added his opinion in the pause. "Saphira and I have agreed to help her. We won't oppose her ascension. And I plead that you do the same; the Varden can't afford to fight among themselves. They need unity." 

Hrothgar regarded him with respect as Blueberry inhaled sharply.

"GB believes in something simple: Nasuada is as Determined as a Frisk." Error gasped slightly, skull whipping to face the dragonic skeleton.

"It's her choice how she will use her power; though her dedication is to dethrone Galbatorix while earning the Varden's loyalty honestly." 

"As a Frisk??" Error questioned. GB nodded quickly, a glint in his eyelights. Hrothgar sighed. "I understand that you hold these Frisks in high regard when it comes to determination. Thank you for your input, jurgen skeleton." 

"As for you, Eragon" he faced the Rider. "You speak with new authority. Your suggestion is a good one, but it will cost a question: Do you think Nasuada will be a wise leader, or are there other motives for choosing her?" 

ℌ𝔢'𝔰 𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔈𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔬𝔫. Nightmare warned.

He wants to know why we've backed her. Saphira added. The human gave a half-smile for a split second. "I think her wise and canny beyond her years. She will be good for the Varden." 

"And that is why you support her?" 

"Yes." 

"And you, Lord Error and dragon kin GB?" 

"Eragon's opinion is mine." Error answered simply.

"She's a tactical genius and much like her father. She'll put her duty before herself."

Hrothgar nodded appreciatively. "That relieves me. There has been too little concern lately with what is right and good, and more about what will bring individual power. It is hard to watch such idiocy and not be angry." 

Silence pervaded the chamber, tense and unnerving. Eragon glanced at the others as they shifted around, Error lost in thought entirely.

"What will be done with the dragonhold?" He finally quested. "Will a new floor be laid down?" 

The wrinkles around Hrothgar's eyes deepened as tears welled in his eyes, though did not fall. He spoke, voice thick with emotion. "Much talk is needed before that step can be taken. It was a terrible deed, what Saphira and Arya did. Maybe necessary, but terrible. Ah, it might have been better if the Urgals had overrun us before Isidar Mithrim was ever broken. The heart of Tronjhiem has been shattered, and so has ours." The dwarf king swung his fist over his chest before reaching for his warhammer and clenching the handle.

Notes of regret and sorrow thrummed throughout Saphira's conscience. She was full of regret for the destruction of the star sapphire. Help me, little ones. She asked of her Rider and skeletons. I need to speak with Hrothgar. Ask him: Do the dwarves have the ability to reconstruct Isidar Mithrim out of the shards?

Eragon asked this of the king as the others faced her curiously. Error seemed to already understand where she was going with this as Blueberry furrowed his non-existent eyebrows. GB tilted his skull at her, though the dragon never looked at him, only at Hrothgar as he muttered irritably in his home tongue. 

"The skill we have, but what of it? The task would take months or years, and the end result would be a ruined mockery of the beauty that once graced Tronjhiem! It is an abomination I will not sanction." 

Saphira did not look away. Now tell him: If Isidar Mithrim were put together again, with not one piece missing, I believe I could make it whole once more.

Eragon spun and gawked at her, stunned. Error coughed and translated for her, as Blue was still stumbling over his words and Eragon continued to gape at his dragon. 

Hrothgar straightened in his seat as Error finished. "Is it possible? Not even the elves might attempt such a feat." Eragon composed himself. "She is confident in her abilities." 

Blueberry stilled himself as he shared a long look with GB, then Error. Then all skeletons faced the dwarf king. 

"Saphira has bound her wyrda to the Isidar Mithrim. She will return it to it's former glory." He said in a flat, serious voice. It was enough to send shivers down Eragon's spine, Nightmare sensing a familiar power rising up from within the energetic skeleton and fading before it grew too obvious.

Hrothgar stared at them before speaking. "Then we will rebuild the Isidar Mithrim, no matter if it takes a hundred years. We will assemble a frame for the gem and set each piece into its original place. Not a single chip will be forgotten. Even if we must break the larger pieces to move them, it will be done with all our skill in working stone, so that no dust or flecks are lost. You will come then, when we are finished, and heal the Star Rose." 

"We will come." Eragon nodded with a bow. 

A grin split Hrothgar's stony face. "Such joy you have given me, Saphira. I feel once more a reason to rule and live. If you do this, dwarves everywhere will honor your name for uncounted generations. Go now, all of you, with my blessings while I spread the tidings among the clans. And do not feel bound to wait upon my announcement, for no dwarf should be denied this news; convey it to all whom you meet. May the halls echo with the jubilation of our race." 

Eragon bowed once again, as did Blue. The group turned and made their way out of the throne room, Hrothgar grinning joyously as he watched them depart. When they exited the hall, Eragon informed Orik of the happenings. The dwarf, without skipping a beat, threw himself at Saphira's talons and kissed the ground before her. Then he stood and gripped Eragon's arm tightly. "A wonder indeed! You have given us exactly the hope we needed to combat recent events. There will be drinking tonight, I wager!" 

"And tomorrow is the funeral." Eragon reminded him soberly. Orik hesitated, glancing at the other's faces a tad anxiously. "Tomorrow, yes. But until then we shall not let unhappy thoughts disturb us! Come! All of you!" The dwarf took Eragon's hand and tugged him through Tronjhiem's corridors, all the way to a grand feast hall. Error had long since teleported away and back with the others of the Wyrdaí Islingrya as Berry had been jumping up and down in excitement.

Orik leapt atop one table, dishware scattering everywhere. Before he could get a word out, Blue clambered up with him and tossed the dwarf over his shoulders excitedly for extra height. After a brief pause, Orik snorted and shouted out the news of the Isidar Mithrim. The crowd erupted into a deafening roar. Each dwarf could not be dissuaded from kissing the floor at Saphira's feet. 

Then the food was left forgotten as the dwarves filled their stone mugs with all manner of alcoholic beverages. It was a celebration. Blueberry was laughing rather maniacally as he started a drinking contest with four dwarves, the men laughing as they were confident he would lose. 

As this was happening, Error started snickering and Chaos sat with them, a knowing smirk on her face. Eragon went on to join the festivities, taking care not to lose himself. Horror started an eating contest at one point, a wicked grin stuck on his face. Killer and Dust were playing the knife game with a deadly blade and sharpened bone attack, Red getting terribly drunk while laughing his non-existent butt off at them. 

Saphira then gave the mead a taste, enjoying it. So she carefully took the barrel and drank the entire thing, tilting her head upwards to spew flames everywhere. GB made a hiccuping sound like he was chuckling, then stole the next barrel from her when Eragon finally convinced the dwarves it was safe. Unfazed, they rolled a third over and she downed it. GB hiccupped for real when she finished, a sort of rumbling yelp, leaning against the blue dragon with a brighter blue glow across his face. 

The two larger creatures became more and more drunk as they went through the barrels of mead and even beer at one point. Red was soon found sitting atop GB's spine as he mixed himself a concoction of beer and dwarven mustard to get something like the stuff he used to drink back home. 

Meanwhile, Horror had raided the cooks for tomato sauce and meat, since they didn't even know what ketchup was. He was laughing evilly as he shoved sausage in every gap he had, his skull already packed with various meats, mostly fish much to his slight disappointment. 

All this time, Blueberry had outdrunk every single dwarf there, past the point of alcohol poisoning. He revealed his immunity to the drink, much to the dismay of the dwarves. He went around collecting lost bets with a terrible glee. Little Blueberry had a dark side. It wasn't long until he joined a card game in a quiet corner with some humans, ready to unleash his terrifying mastery of cards and crush the opponents.

Cross watched this scene from a relatively calm corner with wide sockets, Fresh grinning beside him. The pastel rainbow one would often skate off to start stuff only to return with a shit eating grin, a fight breaking out here and there. Geno just accepted red wine and sipped quietly as he smirked at the boisterous madness. 

Then Chaos stood on a table, previously unseen. She shouted something in Dwarvish to catch the attention of everyone present. The hall fell into a half silence, most of everyone facing her. 

Then the humanized Temmie began to sing. 

Immediately the dwarves joined her, singing in their home tongue clumsily. Nightmare watched the scene from Eragon, pleased with the moment. 

The human himself was stumbling and confused, Saphira's drunkenness seeping into him. The dragon and dragonic skeleton had begun humming along, the rough reptilian and rumbling skeletal voices adding a strange element to the tune as Eragon struggled to join the song. Nightmare laughed softly in his mind as the human was baffled when his voice rasped like a dragon's. 

Giving up, Eragon sang without a care.

And still, dwarves were pouring into the hall as they heard the news. They concentrated around Eragon and Saphira in tight rings. Blue's laughter echoed as he found new victims of his games, Horror was passed out already, his skull being used as a bowl for the meats he'd wedged inside by Red, Killer and Dust as the trio started a daring contest with another group of dwarves. 

By now, Chaos had somehow drawn Cross into the fray, the monochrome skeleton panicking briefly before she got him to dance. Luckily for her, he was too busy freaking out at being amid the disorder to notice the Temmie's huge blush. 

During this moment, Error was pressed against the wall beside Geno, hating the noise and crowd. 

But as soon as the musicians entered and pulled out string instruments, Error's eyelights flashed in excitement. He teleported over, scaring the living crap out of the musicians as he stared at the harps and lutes intently. Geno followed and tried to calm them with broken Dwarvish, but then Error pulled out a violin from his inventory. It was crafted of solid black wood, his own strings strung into it. The bow was the same. Both had an aura of age, while at the same time appearing well-oiled and brand new. 

In the midst of a chaotic celebration, the notes of an echoey violin being tuned quickly stilled the crowd. Hundreds of eyes and some stunned eyelights faced the God of Destruction as he stared at his violin like it was the only thing that existed. It was a little-known fact that he knew how to play like no one else. Error then closed his sockets, a smile twitching across his face. 

His strings spilled out from him without warning as he both stiffened and relaxed, stretching themselves taut across the hall and ceiling, the glitch now standing on the web as it draped itself down to a foot above a table. 

Those strings began humming before he struck a single note.

A wild tune electrified his phalanges as they danced across the instrument, his web of strings pulsing as they emitted a sub-base frequency, casting blue light across the feast hall as Error's violin joined in. He was apparently unaware of the fact that the entire room had fallen silent at his performance; the strange sounds melding together to create music never heard before in Alagaësia. Error was creating his own dubstep, caught up in the violin as he swayed in his strings. 

(Spontaneous me - Lindsey Stirling) 

Error's glitches trailed him as he waltzed in midair, blue strings shining and flashing as they hummed electric notes, some glitching to merely vibrate. It was a beautiful mix of violin and bass. Literally no one but Geno, Blue, Chaos and Nightmare had ever seen this before, and it was a sight to behold. Error playing to his fullest extent. 

He was so absorbed in the music he temporarily forgot where he was, his mind traveling back to the lonely Anti-Void with no one but his puppets, the Voices, Determined Souls and sometimes Chaos or Blue to keep him company. Blank white stretching on to eternity, and the oppressive silence banished by his moments with his magic and violin.

Eventually Error returned to reality, playing his last few notes as the music faded to a glitching buzz. He opened his sockets with a satisfied smile, gazing down his violin lovingly for a few seconds as everything fell to silence. 

Then a dwarf burped and his eyelights shot up, blurred with confusion before remembering where he was. Then his eyesockets went dark in realization. 

"Ī £-£ø®gö+ +hē®€ w€®ë ₱ê∅₱|€ h€®€." He stammered, his face glowing yellow as his blue tear streaks shone brighter in embarrassment. The room was so silent, one could hear a pen drop. 

Then Killer abruptly lunged forward, stabbing a knife into the table as he shouted. "Holy shit, that was AWESOME!!" 

Dust started clapping, Killer joining in eagerly as Blueberry started cheering. Chaos squealed in ecstasy, stars in her eyes. Error just blushed harder, shoving the instrument into his inventory and teleporting away. 

And when he left, it was as though the dwarves all released their breath at once. A dozen or so began clapping weakly, the cheers coming from the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya. For the most part, it seemed like the dwarves were just breathless from the performance. There were splashes of fear among the awed spectators, Nightmare noted. 

Fortunately the audience began to recover, the musicians playing a few shy, discordant notes as life returned to them. The strings above swayed innocently, a silent reminder of what just occurred. 

Given the overall drunkenness of everyone present, it was only ten minutes until the former boisterous atmosphere returned in full force. However, bits and pieces still lingered; in the conversations of those still sober, in the awe of those glancing at the spools of blue thread above their heads, in the absentminded tunes a few hummed, mirroring the song that rang in everyone's minds. At one point the musicians were playing their own version of Error's melody. As spontaneous as his song had been, the tune was still ringing in memory. It was going to be spoken of throughout all of Tronjhiem very soon, and most likely past that to the other dwarf cities in the Beors. 

At some point, Nightmare caught snatches of conversation from his place within Eragon, hearing dwarves discuss the spontaneity of the song; to the point that they were calling it that. The Spontaneous Melody. 

𝔑𝔬𝔱 𝔟𝔞𝔡.. 𝔓𝔢𝔯𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔰 𝔥𝔢'𝔩𝔩 𝔭𝔩𝔞𝔶 𝔦𝔱 𝔞𝔤𝔞𝔦𝔫 𝔰𝔬𝔪𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔪𝔢. 

He mused, finding a spark of humor in Saphira and GB's inebriation. The pair were humming and roaring along with a Dwarvish folksong, leaning on each other and swaying. 

The hours flew by, Nightmare ignoring the wasted dwarves' antics and Eragon's increasing tipsiness. Instead, he focused on the more coherent conversations. Especially mentions of Error's melody. It had one of two names so far. His melody or the Spontaneous Melody. Not very creative, but this was a bunch of completely tanked dwarves. 

The festivities went on, getting wilder. At one point, Horror was laughing crazily as he chased a terrified Red around, brandishing his axe and frothing at the teeth. 

Fresh skated in to throw Caprisuns everywhere, though how he still had them since falling from the Multiverse was completely unknown. Same with the punch he pulled out. Which Blue promptly spiked with hardcore whiskey he had stored away in his inventory. 

Then Red threw a chocolate at Cross, who was already tipsy from drinking the drugged punch. The black and white clothed skeleton shrieked like an unholy thing, lunging after the chocolate desperately and disappearing into the throng of dwarves. 

Geno was long gone, probably drinking red wine while hanging out with Error, wherever they were. Killer was juggling more than a dozen knives, Dust trying to smack them out of the air with random bone attacks while taking part in a dart board competition with a team of dwarves, lending spare sharpened bones as darts to competitors. 

Blue was grinning like he owned the world, moving between sober groups to win all their money in bets or cards. He was probably loaded in Dwarvish currency by now. Chaos could be seen dancing with everyone, laughing joyously as she sang in fluent Dwarvish. Lucky for her, Error wasn't present, because she was receiving a few awed looks from tipsy dwarves. 

But then Cross climbed atop a table beside her, cheering victoriously as he held a swearing Red above his skull and started shaking access chocolate bars from the edgy skeleton. Then he threw Red into the crowd and shoveled the treats into his inventory while giggling maniacally. 

Lastly, Cross gripped the final bar and tore off the wrapper with his teeth, shoving the chocolate greedily into his face before whooping, throwing his arms up and swaying. Then he spontaneously grabbed a random female out of the deluge of bodies around him and kissed them, hard.

For all intents and purposes, it coincidentally managed to be Chaos. The Temmie blushed deeply, squealing as he let her go and stumbled back. His skull turned purple as he realized who it was, Cross's mismatched eyelights becoming swirls in his drugged state. 

Nightmare had no idea what was said next, but the humiliation from Cross and adoration from Chaos was more than enough for him to laugh from within Eragon's fuzzled mind. 

The hours rolled by until Orik finally climbed atop a table, crying for attention. GB plopped his skull behind the dwarf, Blueberry taking a seat on the dragonic skeleton at the base of his neck vertebrae. 

"Hear, hear!" Orik shouted, the crowd quieting to listen. Orik went on, slurring momentarily as he leaned side-to-side. "At last we have celebrated as is proper. The Urgals are gone, the Shade is dead, and we have won!" They erupted into wild cheers, pounding the table rambunctiously. In a lull of the din, Orik raised his tankard. "To the Wyrdaí Islingrya, Eragon and Saphira!" 

They all were howling in applause, so Eragon stood up and bowed. GB's eyelights glinted lazily at the sight as Saphira warbled, shoving herself up on her hind legs and imitating the action. But her ungainly form wasn't meant for such behavior. The dragon stumbled, dwarves diving out of the way as she tilted backwards. A loud groan escaped her jaws before the air wooshed past her, Saphira collapsing on her back on a banquet table. 

GB exploded in a loud bray much like a train as Eragon went stiff as a board and toppled down beside his dragon. Nightmare had just enough time to send the human to sleep before the pain increased further. Then he quieted his own consciousness, awaiting the morning.


	5. Mourning for a Lost Leader

"Wake, Knurlhiem! You cannot sleep now. We are needed at the gate- they won't start without us."   
Eragon blinked himself awake, Nightmare shifting in his mind as he rasped. "What?"  
"Ajihad's procession. We must be present for it!"   
"No, what did you call me?" Eragon quested, glancing around the room while wondering how he got there. Saphira was draped across her mattress pad on her side, GB's soft snores clattering softly beside her. She rolled over and looked up, bleary-eyed.   
"Stonehead!" Orik scoffed. "I called you Stonehead because I've been trying to wake you for almost an hour!" 

Nightmare snorted mentally as Eragon heaved himself to a sitting position, struggling to recall the night before. He stood and bumbled over to Saphira. Saphira, how are you? She gave a low rumble, licking her teeth distastefully as GB whuffed, waking up himself. 

The skeleblaster yawned hugely, ending in a whine as Saphira responded. Whole… I think. My left wing feels a bit strange; I think it's the one I landed on. And my head is filled with a thousand hot arrows.   
"Was anyone hurt when she fell?" Eragon asked worriedly. Orik chuckled loudly. "Only those who dropped off their seats from laughing so hard. A dragon getting drunk and bowing at that! I'm sure lays will be sung about it for decades." 

GB huffed in amusement as Saphira shuffled her wings and avoided their collective gaze indignantly. Orik went on. "We would have left you in the banquet hall if it were not for the etalthargen's ability to change places in an instant. Much to the cook's appreciation, too- he feared Saphira and GB would drink more of his best stock than the 9 barrels you already did."  
Eragon scoffed at Saphira, GB chortling lazily. And you chatisized me once for drinking! If I consumed four barrels, it would kill me!  
That's why you're not a dragon. She responded.

Orik pushed a ball of clothes into Eragon's arms. "Here, put these on. They are more appropriate for a funeral than your own attire. But hurry, we have little time." The human studied the outfit as GB turned his backside to him for privacy as the dwarf left to wait outside the room. It was a loose white shirt with ties on it's cuffs, dark pants, a red vest decorated with gold embroidery and braiding, shiny boots as black as the pants and a cape sporting a studded brooch. Zar'roc was fastened to a lavish belt. Nightmare quietly stewed about the clothes, considering it garish as well as despising the cape, though he never actually complained. It was just wordless thought. 

Eragon rinsed his face and hopelessly tried forcing his hair into something presentable. He gave up and allowed Orik to usher him out to the hall and towards Tronjhiem's south gate. GB stayed close to Saphira, stumbling slightly before regaining his footing. The dragon herself was slightly unbalanced in her gait, doing her best to hide the clumsiness.   
Can you make it through the whole funeral? Eragon asked her in concern.   
GB grumbled as she bit back a grimace. That and Nasuada's appointment, but then I'll need to sleep. A pox on all mead! 

The other only groaned good-naturedly at that, a kind smile stretched across his face. He finally added his own opinion.   
I'll try to help however I can. I've been hungover more times than I can count; I know how to deal with the migraines.   
Eragon paused, considering a question, then deciding against it and facing Orik.  
"Where will Ajihad be buried?"   
The dwarf shot him a cautious look. "That has been a matter of contention among the clans. When a dwarf dies, we believe he must be sealed in stone or else he will never join his ancestors…. It is complex and I cannot say more to an outsider… but we go to great lengths to assure such a burial. Shame falls on a family or clan if they allow any of their own to lie in a lesser element." 

He gestured at the floor. "Under Farthen Dûr exists a chamber that is the home of all knurlan, all dwarves, who have died here. It is there Ajihad will be taken. He cannot be entombed with us, as he is human, but a hallowed alcove has been set aside for him. There the Varden may visit him without disturbing our sacred grottos, and Ajihad will receive the respect he is due." 

Nightmare listened eagerly, curiosity flaring up. "Your king has done much for the Varden." Eragon observed.   
Orik shook his head wearily. "Some think too much." 

Arriving at the open gate, they all bore witness to an orderly column half-lit in sunlight streaming in from the high ceiling above. Ajihad was resting at the front on a marble pier carried by 6 men in black armor. A helm of precious stones and minerals lay upon his head. His hands were clasped around the hilt of his sword, the tip extending past the shield draped over his chest and legs. His cold limbs were encased in silver mail. 

Behind the body was Nasuada, adorned in ebony. She held her head high, though tears still slipped down her cheeks. On her left stood Hrothgar in equally sable robes, beside him Arya and the Council of Elders. On Nasuada's left stood the strange fire elemental Sinead in a black dress, then Error and the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya.

Every door that could be seen throughout the city-mountain was open, every archway flooded with humans and dwarves alike. The hundreds of faces watched Eragon, Saphira, and GB, whispering amongst themselves as they arrived. Jörmundur waved at them to join, so they approached him. 

Eragon and Saphira moved to stand at his side as Sabrae glared at them momentarily, Orik standing behind his king and GB behind Error. All lanterns were half-shut to cast Tronjhiem into its own twilight. Everything went still; completely and utterly still. It was as though they had all become stone. Something Nightmare was familiar with. 

A single wisp of incense floated to the ceiling high above them. With it came the scent of juniper and cedar. It was the only movement in the eerily silent hall. 

Then deep within Tronjhiem a drum sounded.   
Error made a soft choking noise as he glitched in surprise at the sudden sound, notes of discord running through other members of the Wyrdaí Islingrya as well. But they quickly muted as it rang again, a deeper thrum joining the first.   
The procession moved forward, keeping pace with the drum. 

It gave each passing step a profound meaning, emotions rising up within all of Farthen Dûr. Sonorous and full of heartache, something that gave Nightmare precedence and fantastic strength.   
Loss always was one of the greatest negative emotions. 

As the cortege entered the main chamber wherein the remains of the Star Rose lay, the sorrow only increased. It was like staring across a field of crystal graves, somber and faded, a reminder of regret. The main shards were so large they towered over even Saphira and GB, accusatory.

The carriers pressed onward, weaving through the shards expertly before turning to head down the stairs to the many tunnels beneath. Through the caves they traversed, passing many carved huts of stone, mothers and children eyeing them from doorways and windows as they bore Ajihad into the final resting place. 

A catacomb lined with thousands of niches. Each compartment held a tomb, a name and clan crest engraved upon each and every one of them. There were hundreds of thousands of dead here. Nightmare felt the hush of the atmosphere in this place, knowing everyone else was aware as well. The red lanterns were placed sporadically, casting long shadows like eternal twilight. The procession arrived in a lone room with an open crypt awaiting it's package to welcome Ajihad to darkness. Upon the lid was a simple engraving.

May all, Knurlan, Humans, and Elves,   
Remember  
This Man.  
For he was Noble, Strong, and Wise.

Gûntera Arûna

Those mourning gathered nearer as Ajihad was ceremoniously lowered into his final resting place. Those who had known him personally were allowed to draw closer.   
Eragon, seventh in line, experienced a well of regret and loss upon seeing Ajihad's face. He was in anguish, for he viewed this as much as a funeral for Murtaugh as it was for Ajihad. So he stared down at that tranquil body with terrible sorrow. The heartache emanating from all those present made Nightmare feel… wrong.

He was lamenting for the former leader of the Varden, yes; but he was collecting so much power from the raw emotions all throughout Farthen Dûr. He understood in this moment, he could return to his physical form..  
..But to leave Eragon defenseless?  
Is that the right thing to do?

He rested within Eragon's consciousness, thinking as the human studied the fallen. Ajihad was peaceful, as though in dying he had at last discovered tranquility.  
Eragon and the Wyrdaí Islingrya had met Ajihad only recently, but he had rapidly ascended to great respect in their ideals. He was respected as the honorable man he was and for what he symbolised; freedom. The end of tyranny. A new life, a second chance to start over despite the roadblocks in the way.   
Now he was dead.

Eragon finally thought of something to say.  
"You will be remembered, Ajihad. I swear it. Rest easy knowing that Nasuada shall continue your work and the Empire will be overthrown because of what you accomplished."   
Nightmare added his own, unheard eulogy.  
𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔟𝔢 𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔬𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔫, 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔨𝔢𝔯. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔴𝔦𝔩𝔩 𝔟𝔢 𝔰𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔞𝔟𝔬𝔲𝔱 𝔟𝔶 𝔡𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔳𝔢𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔥𝔲𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔣𝔬𝔯 𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰. 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔯 𝔡𝔞𝔲𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔦𝔰 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔢 𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔢𝔤𝔞𝔠𝔶 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔩𝔡 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔯 𝔥𝔬𝔭𝔢𝔡 𝔣𝔬𝔯. 𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔥𝔞𝔳𝔢 𝔯𝔞𝔦𝔰𝔢𝔡 𝔞 𝔴𝔦𝔰𝔢 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔟𝔢𝔫𝔢𝔳𝔬𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔱 𝔔𝔲𝔢𝔢𝔫... ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔱, 𝔡𝔢𝔞𝔯 𝔣𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔫𝔡.   
ℑ𝔱 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔞𝔫 𝔥𝔬𝔫𝔬𝔯 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔶𝔬𝔲.

Eragon moved away wordlessly, letting Blueberry view the body in it's eternal rest.   
"He… looks like he's sleeping…" The normally energetic skeleton mumbled incredulously, golden bone in hand.

Eventually everyone had paid tribute to the former leader of the Varden, leaving only Nasuada to stand over the corpse. Her once father.  
She bent over the still form, holding his cold hand with gentle agony. After she groaned painfully, Nasuada starting singing. Wailing in words of an unfamiliar language, her anguished voice echoing throughout the chamber in heartbreaking cries.   
Twelve dwarves approached then, sliding a thick lid over marble over the quiet form of Ajihad.   
No more. 

Blue sobbed into Error's jacket as Chaos hugged his other side.   
Geno stood, gritting his teeth as a distant sound echoed in the catacombs; the voice of a crow.  
Like his love.   
A symbol of Death.


	6. Nightmare's return, and the Reveal

Nightmare weighed on Eragon's mind, a little heavier than intended. He didn't want to leave, knowing the boy would be vulnerable to those seizures again. But the human insisted, that he should be present for Nasuada's appointment if not her father's funeral. And it annoyed the King of Negativity, as the Rider had a point. 

So Eragon approached Error discreetly to explain the situation. After a moment of shock, the glitch understood. Error led the human away to a secluded room not far from the amphitheater where the appointment would take place. 

There, Nightmare faded into the realm of spirits, outside of Eragon's consciousness.

Error supervised this, wary of mishaps. Anything could go wrong, since this was not the Multiverse but Alagaësia; the magic could go haywire in reaction to reformation. That, and Nightmare needed a monster from the Multiverse to take some magic from. Vanyalí was not compatible, only Grammaryé. 

Eragon collapsed, unconscious as the King of Negativity became a virulent vortex of darkness, purple and blue. Without further incident, Nightmare took form out of shadow, Darkness condensing into shape as he released a wave of negativity from his core. Shades of silver danced through the dark figure in greater and greater amounts, until it became solid. Skeletal. 

The skeleton of silver glowed like the moon, shrouded in shadow like clouds. Purple eyelights gazed up at the glitch, a blush so dark it was violet on his cheekbones. 

"Why am I naked?" Nightmare choked out. 

Error averted his gaze, adjusting Eragon to a sitting position and facing away from the King of Negativity. "№ ïd€å. I +hōügh+ ¥øû'd $₱áwπ iπ ¢ø®®ü₱+€[)... ẞzz+, I hā√€ ¥∅ū® õ+hë® ¢|ø+hè$, āπ¥wâ¥."

The glitch slid them over, holding a hand in front of his sockets. Nightmare took them gingerly.

"Why did you have them?"

Error coughed awkwardly, then suppressed his glitching. "I was re₱airπg and improving +h€m." 

Nightmare studied them, noting a few details he'd initially missed. 

"Thank you." He slipped them on as Eragon started moaning. 

Then the human rubbed his head, looking around in confusion. 

Nightmare stood, tapping the glitch as he approached Eragon. "You're awake." He spoke, prompting the Rider to turn around, a little bewildered. He smiled at the human, still radiating that silver sheen. 

"Nightmare, thank goodness you're alright."

The skeleton raised a non-existent eyebrow. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Eragon rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not sure… Once I passed out, I suppose I was worried that would harm you." 

Nightmare shook his skull. "Nonsense. I am well. As are you. Come. Nasuada is being appointed as leader of the Varden. Our absence will be noticed and sorely missed." He patted Eragon's shoulder and walked away. Error stared after him for a moment, then shook his skull and followed, Eragon struggling to keep up. 

They returned to the arena, finding it almost filled. Upon seeing Nightmare, all of the Wyrdaí Islingrya stood straight up in considerable amazement. 

Then Blueberry threw himself forward, diving into a hug. Nightmare was bowled over, landing on the floor with a clattering oof. 

Then the others began chattering, asking multiple questions before Nightmare held up a hand.

"Save the questions for later. I will explain after, not before." They quieted, subdued.

They all found their seats, Nightmare smiling faintly as he sensed the growing wonderment and disbelief of the Council of Elders. 

Eragon and the Wyrdaí Islingrya sat on the bottom row, Orik, Arya, Nasuada, Hrothgar and the Council of Elders with them. Saphira stood on the stairs leading up through the levels of seats. GB was in humanoid form, sitting beside Blue. 

Not long after Nightmare, Error and Eragon sat down, the arena was full. Jörmundur rose to the podium, speech prepared. He spoke.

"People of the Varden, we last stood here fifteen years ago, at Deynor's death. His successor, Ajihad, did more to oppose the Empire and Galbatorix than any before. He won countless battles against superior forces. He nearly killed Durza, putting a scratch on the Shade's blade. And greatest of all, he welcomed Rider Eragon and Saphira, as well as King Nightmare and Lord Error and their people into Tronjhiem. However, a new leader must be chosen, one who will win us even more glory."

"Shadeslayer!" Someone screamed from on high. Eragon flinched slightly. Nightmare managed to give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. The human smiled gratefully before they returned their attention to Jörmundur.

"Perhaps in the years to come, but he has other duties and responsibilities now. No, the Council of Elders has thought long and hard on this: we need one who understands our needs and wants, one who has lived and suffered alongside us. One who refused to flee, even when battle was imminent." 

The understanding that washed over the crowd was so potent, Nightmare knew that even Eragon and the Wyrdaí Islingrya could feel it. A thousand voices whispered the same name, almost eerie in the collective agreement. 

"Nasuada." 

Jörmundur bowed, stepping down so Error could rise. The glitch glanced nervously at Nightmare, who nodded. Then the former god of destruction stood, glitching briefly.

After a moment of staring intently at the crowd staring at him, Error glitched harder. Nightmare sighed and joined him. Error calmed somewhat before the King of Negativity spoke.

"I, as leader of the Wyrdvrangr, approve of Nasuada's ascension and offer our support in the Empire's downfall. And on behalf of those of our kind scattered throughout Alagaësia and possibly suffering under Galbatorix's reign, we will fight alongside the Varden and elves when the time comes. May she stay Determined." Dust and Killer clapped, Red exclaiming victoriously as Blueberry beamed.

Error fiddled with his strings before adding to Nightmare's words.

"As leader of Eldjierdar I will assist Nasuada and the Varden in the war with Galbatorix. I will fight, as will Eldjierdar. As for those of our kind working for the Empire, I will make them r€g®ê+ their choice to join Galbatorix. We're rooting for Nasuada." GB trilled, Fresh grinning as Geno clapped softly, Chaos cheering softly with a dopey grin on her face. Blue applauded, proud of Error for his bravery despite the crowd.

The glitch huffed, then teleported back to his seat. Several of those in the crowd gasped at the strange magic as Nightmare rolled his eyelights and walked back. Arya was next to speak. Her eyes flitted across the amphitheater.

"The elves honor Ajihad tonight… and on behalf of Queen Islanzadi, I recognize Nasuada's ascension and offer her the same support and friendship we extended to her father. May the stars watch over her."

Her speech short, Arya stepped down, Hrothgar now taking the stand. He was even shorter with his words. "I too support Nasuada, as do the clans." 

Eragon's turn came. He stood before the crowd, taking in their faces. His turn was shortest of all. 

"We support Nasuada as well." Saphira growled in confirmation.

Pledges now out of the way, the Council of Elders lined up on either side of the podium, Jörmundur the head. With a dignified air, Nasuada strode forward and knelt, her jet black dress spreading around her.

Jörmundur addressed the audience and Nasuada. 

"By the right of inheritance and succession, we have chosen Nasuada. By merit of her father's achievements and the blessings of her peers, we have chosen Nasuada. I now ask you: Have we chosen well?" 

"YES!"

The amphitheater trembled with the roar.

Jörmundur nodded. "Then by the power granted to this council, we pass the privleges and responsibilities accorded to Ajihad to his only descendant, Nasuada." He rested a circlet of silver upon her brow and took her hand, pulling her to her feet and announcing; "I give you our new leader!" 

Deafening cheers erupted from the audience, lasting for quite awhile. Ten minutes of cheering. Saphira looked irritated, the noise not helping her headache whatsoever. GB had a similar look on his face, though hid it better than the dragon. Neither complained.

Then Sabrae gestured at Eragon. "Now is the time to fulfill your promise." Several skeleton faces soured. Eragon stiffened, before taking a deep breath and standing. His fear was a dull roar, only visible to Nightmare himself. He rested a hand upon Eragon. The human faced him with wide eyes, glancing between him and Error. 

Nightmare's bones still gleamed, like he was made of condensed moonlight. He gave a gentle smile. "It is going to be alright. You are carving history." He explained in a quiet voice. Error only nodded. 

With the extra boost of confidence, Eragon inclined his head and turned, a slow pace towards the Council of Elders. Saphira followed, a brief conversation happening between the dragon and Rider. 

On the outside, Eragon calmly removed Zar'roc from it's sheath. Inside, he was on the verge of panicking. 

He laid it flat across his palms, raising it as though to offer it to Jörmundur. Eragon froze, temporarily lost in thought as the entire amphitheater fell silent, tense as his thoughts whirled maddeningly.

Then he swung towards Nasuada.

"Out of deep respect…" he began. "And appreciation of the difficulties facing you… I, Eragon, first Rider of the Varden, Shadeslayer and Argetlam, give you my blade and my fealty, Nasuada." 

The chamber was quiet. Very quiet.

At the same time, the smug looks on the Council of Elders leapt from relishing to furious. They glared venomously with betrayal. Only Jörmundur retained levelheadedness after his initial surprise. Nightmare almost could've sworn he felt pride emanating temporarily from the human. The Wyrdaí Islingrya snickered from their seats, a few quiet chuckles rising from the monsters.

Nasuada grinned and took Zar'roc by the handle, touching the tip to Eragon's forehead, just like last time. "I am honored that you choose to serve me, Rider Eragon. I accept, as you accept all the responsibilities accompanying the station. Rise as my vassal and take your sword." 

Eragon complied, stepping away with Saphira. Then the crowd let loose once again, cheering. Several skeletons took the chance to laugh freely at the Council's detriment. They shot looks in response, only to meet Error and Nightmare's intense, unsettling, knowing smiles. The audience was standing, humans bashing their swords over their shields as dwarves stamped their feet in rhythm. 

Now Nasuada faced the podium, holding onto it so tightly her knuckles paled. She surveyed the crowd, smiling with joy. 

"People of the Varden!" She called. 

The cheering died.

She continued. "As my father did before me, I give my life to you and our cause. I will never ceases fighting until the Urgals are vanquished, Galbatorix is dead, and Alagaësia is free once more!" 

They roared again. Nasuada went on.

"Therefore, I say to you, now is the time to prepare. Here in Farthen Dûr -after endless skirmishes- we won our greatest battle. It is our turn to strike back. Galbatorix is weak after losing so many forces, and there will never again be such an opportunity. 

Therefore, I say again, now is the time to prepare so that we may once more stand victorious!" 

Nightmare was thrilled at this turn of events. Finally, something was actually happening in Alagaësia. No more cowardly running. Now they were going on the offense. 

The King of Negativity had missed attacking his enemies. And given the emotions of his friends and family, they were much the same. 

The time has come for change. Enemies come with powerful alliances. We need to leave for Ellesméra very soon...


	7. Weapons and Crystals

Nightmare was with the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya. He had explained his 'death'. They were stunned into silence.

Then Blue asked. "Why are you glowing like that?"

He stared at his hand curiously. "I'm not sure. Normally it lasts for about thirty minutes, not hours like this. I presume it's an effect of Alagaësia. I don't believe it's permanent; that would certainly annoy me if it were." 

Killer shrugged as GB shifted in place, speaking in Wingdings.  _ "Can you control it at all? I heard Dream was capable of glowing at will, though I never saw it." _

Nightmare scowled as Blue answered. "Dream can. He does it when he's stressed out or helping someone calm down. I think it's a side effect of radiating positivity?"

The Guardian of Negativity snorted. "Yes, the abilities are tied into each other. As for control, I'm not as proficient as Dream. I don't even know why I have the ability. It's a Light ability, and I can already manipulate shadow to my will." 

Cross leaned forward after a pause. "So you have lighter abilities like Dream? Could that mean Dream has a few darker powers that he doesn't use?" 

The team considered this in surprise. Nightmare nodded.

"In a way, yes. How do you think Dream vanishes when there is shade around? He can disappear into weak shadows. Though if he tries darker ones, he will stick out like a bright, yellowish light. A sore thumb. But otherwise, it's possible both of us do have similar powers that we are not even aware of, given our preferences to our main element."

"That's… actually really fascinating." Geno muttered to himself as Error steepled his phalanges. The glitch pointed his hands at the silvery skeleton. 

"Why wouldn't you look for your other abilities? You could've used them to your advantage. You technically still can. It would be unpredictable if you used a power opposite of your normal skillset. Advantageous, y'know. In the battle of Farthen Dûr, the enemies all saw you fighting with your natural abilities in your typical Corrupted form. And given there were monsters from the Multiverse there, they've probably reported to Galbatorix everything they know about you. All of us. So you could potentially catch them off guard with an unfamiliar attack. You see what I'm saying?" 

Several sockets widened as they realized what Error was suggesting. Nightmare pondered the possibility. 

"Would you even do that..?" Dust asked quietly as the rest stared incredulously. The King of Negativity rubbed his jawbone. "I'll admit that it's an intriguing idea." He started, folding his hands on his lap.

"But you know my aversion to light and positivity." He sighed patiently. 

Error glared at him pointedly. "I have an aversion to crowds and people. Do you see me  birch ing?" He asked severely, ignoring Fresh's flawless censor. Nightmare scowled, knowing he couldn't really argue with that.

"I'm not at all diplomatic, yet I'm sticking with the Varden because  _ one _ of us needs to stay here, and it's not you." The glitch continued. 

Nightmare scoffed, waving irritably. "Fine, fine. I'll look into it, no need to harass me." He gave in, knowing how impossible it was to argue with the glitch when he knew he was right. Error smiled victoriously, having won. 

"Since we're on the topic, do you know any other lighter magics you have?" Killer asked curiously, spinning a blade on his phalange by the tip. Nightmare shrugged. "That I'm aware of? Nothing. Though it is possible that something exists." 

"So you don't know?" Dust questioned.

"I don't." 

Now engaged and curious, Red leaned forward. "I have an idea." 

They all regarded him. "What?" Error asked bluntly. The edgy skeleton picked his teeth with a bone attack as he smirked.

"I gotta question for new Boss and Blue." He waved the bone at them as he mentioned the names.

"What's something Dream can do when he's mad?" 

Blue stammered momentarily as Nightmare blinked, realizing where this was going.

"I'm afraid he doesn't get angry." The Guardian of Negativity sighed irritably. Red frowned. "That's impossible. He has to get a little angry at  _ some _ point." 

"It's never happened."

Cross perked up. "If you're capable of happiness as his opposite, Dream should be capable of hatred. Maybe he just… avoids getting mad?" 

Nightmare shook his skull. "Believe me, it would've been more fun if I could do that. But you've seen it yourself; he cannot get upset in that way." 

"But then it isn't balanced." Geno complained, bone-brows furrowed in confusion. "You two are based off of balance.."

The dark King sighed. "Look, I believe that once it may have been possible. Before  _ that _ incident." His left eyelight flashed a chilling blue upon mentioning that.

"But it's likely he never got the chance to be pushed so far, and in an effort for his weak body to adapt to the massive power shift, he lost his capability of the emotion entirely."

Blue was staring strangely at him as several shoulders slumped in realization. 

"Well there goes that option, then." Red muttered as he flicked his bone attack across the room in annoyance. Then Blueberry spoke in a low voice.

"Dream can get angry." 

Everyone faced him in surprise. 

"How could you know??" Nightmare demanded. Blue stared at the floor thoughtfully, his eyelights unfocused. 

"I saw it once." He continued in that quiet time, barely above a whisper.

"What the  heck is capable of angering Dream himself?" Error questioned tersely. Blue rubbed his arm nervously. "Ink." 

A few gasps, Dust mumbling "I knew it." Chaos scoffed. "He can make literally everyone mad. Thardsvergûndnzmal." 

"What happened? You're frightened." Nightmare asked incredulously. It was true. Fear was softly emanating from Berry. 

Blue sighed. "Well, because it scared all of us." He admitted. "Dream was upset because Ink didn't care about what happened inside the AU's, only that they continued to exist. They didn't even know I was there." He scratched the back of his skull shakily.

"Dream started with yelling at him, like when he's getting Ink under control.. but he wasn't listening. He actually had his hands over his skull and ignoring Dream.." Blue's breath shuddered. 

"I… Dream kept yelling louder and louder until he started crying. Ink made it worse by refusing to listen and saying it didn't matter.. so Dream just screamed." 

Nightmare felt chills down his own spine upon sensing Blue's apprehension. The other had his sockets screwed shut, lost in a bad memory. The King of Negativity gave Blue's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"You don't need to continue if it upsets you so." 

"No." Blueberry snapped. "I kept it from you long enough. You deserve to know." 

Blue took a deep breath, still shivering. Then he met their gazes, eyelights flashing with Determination. "It didn't seem so bad at first. Dream was just really, really furious with Ink and the situation. His eyelights were bright red and everything. It was when he just started screaming at Ink that things started to go wrong…." 

"Wrong?" Chaos whispered fearfully. Blue nodded quickly, gulping.

"He stopped shouting words at some point, just screaming nonsense as he started clawing at his skull. I think the anger hurt him, or it snapped something inside him. Ink was still ignoring him, too… He.. Dream.. his skull started cracking. I tried to run up and help him, but I couldn't  _ move _ for some reason. I just watched my  _ friend _ -" Blue cut short, sniffling. Nightmare could tell the others were a little angry, but mostly confused. What Berry was describing didn't seem all that  _ scary _ .. 

"His tears are normally yellow." Blueberry said randomly. Red shifted around. "Dey are." Fresh commented flatly, his smile twisted into one of confusion and more, concern. The other nodded brokenly.

"His tears turned  _ green. _ An awful, sick-looking green. Like a Moldsmal.. It was like it was goopy, too…" He gazed up at Nightmare, who was feeling more and more horrified himself. 

"It started pouring out of the cracks in his skull and mouth, too. Then Dream just  _ attacked _ Ink. Like a feral animal. I think… I think it's some form of Corruption, Night." He wiped his face, sniffling. 

"That's impossible…" Nightmare breathed, feeling his Soul hammer inside his ribcage.

Blueberry shook his skull. "I don't know. He just went crazy on Ink. He tore off Ink's limbs and just  _ wailed _ on him… when I finally pulled him off, I had to hold him down with blue magic and put Ink back together. Then he took him to my house, where he puked all the green stuff out in the sink and fell asleep for the rest of the day. When he woke up, he was so  _ scared. _ Of  _ himself… _ . We made a promise that day. Dream would never let himself get angry if he could help it, never again; while we would watch him in case something ever happened… I guess I forgot it a little. It was.. some time ago. He's never gotten upset at all ever again. So I think he's scared of his angry self.. because…. Never.. mind…" Blueberry trailed, his gaze distant.

There was a full minute of stunned silence, everyone considering the eerie story. "Blue…" Chaos muttered, a worried look on her face. She hugged him tightly, a few tears pricking her eyes. "I'm sorry.." 

"It's okay. It wasn't anybody's fault." The skeleton muttered gently.

"If Ink had just cared about the AU's it wouldn't have happened." Red pointed out venomously. Geno shot him a look, Error silently agreeing himself, earning a glare from the bloody glitch as well. Nightmare carefully sorted through his thoughts, attempting to unravel the possibilities, suggestions, and ideas stemming from this unsettling prospect. 

Then Horror, of all people, made the terrifying connection.

"If Dream becomes a terrifying toxic goop monster when pissed off as Guardian of Positivity, then what happens when you get genuinely happy, Boss?" 

They all flinched slightly before facing Nightmare, who was remarkably dumbfounded.

"I… have no idea.. I've never been extraordinarily happy before, and I doubt I could possibly reach such a state. There is also the fact that I took the Apples to take into consideration. There's no telling what could happen, and I would prefer it to remain unknown."

Fresh rearranged his cap, smirking. "What if we tried to find out, brah? Yo broski radical Dream brah was driven totes unrad crazies by squidy himself, yo! If dat skelbrah gets da case of de angries, then ya can be happy, yo! What's so wrong with dat ta not wanna find out? Happiness is a good thing, ain't it brah?" 

After a moment of deciphering what the 90's reject was saying, Nightmare scowled. "Happiness has never been ideal for me, and such a state would only ever weaken me, regardless of strength." 

"You said you didn't want misery anymore, why can't that include yourself?" Cross questioned innocently enough. Nightmare scoffed. "That isn't what I was saying-" "Then why deny it for yourself?" Dust now pressed. 

"It isn't that simple." The Guardian of Negativity growled. 

"Then please, explain. We're curious and have time." Dust suggested with a casual wave of his hand. Nightmare blinked, frustrated. "It isn't something one can merely  _ explain. _ " "How so?" Geno countered. Everyone was ganging up on him to know the truth. Which irritated him.

"It's possible that Dream became that half-state due to his imprisonment in stone for a century. He was surrounded by Negativity and still fighting with his power. He could have accidentally taken on some of that magic and twisted it into some sort of abomination; Corrupted Positivity, purely by accident. As for myself, I  _ am _ that source of Corruption due to the Apples I contain. I am much stronger than he is and it should be a  _ danger _ to stray too far from my natural state. Corrupted. Negative. So no, I don't believe it's safe to even  _ attempt _ such a venture for anyone involved." 

Several of them frowned upon hearing this, but thankfully no one chose to argue. 

_ "It can't hurt to try, can it?" _ GB dared ask.

Spoke too soon.

"I have been trying to explain to you. That's exactly what could happen. Someone could get hurt."

"It's Positivity." Error pointed out.

"Clearly you have never heard the term 'kill them with kindness'." Nightmare responded drily. 

"How could that possibly apply here?" Error countered.

Nightmare's face darkened. "You don't want to know." 

The glitch threw his hands up, irritated. "¥øü [{π0w wha+¿" He grumbled. "№w I'm ju$t going +0 £igū®e it øû+ on m¥ ∅wñ." 

"Whoa, calm down there, Error." Dust told him. Geno just said something in glitched speak as the dark skeleton rolled his eyelights, fizzling slightly. 

Nightmare sighed. "I doubt you could get very far." 

Standing, he approached the door and opened it, revealing a familiar young human that gasped in awe at him. 

"Hello, Jarsha."

The kid gawked for a moment. "How did you know my name?" He breathed as the others started leaning in to see the kinda cute kid. 

The Guardian of Negativity allowed a small smile. "I was there when you first met Eragon and Saphira. You're a very bright young man." 

He beamed, still confused as of how despite not bringing up the question.

"Um. I have a message and a summons!" He exclaimed. 

"Go on, let us hear it." 

Error stood behind him as GB poked his skull over Nightmare's other shoulder curiously. Jarsha's eyes gleamed as he recited. 

"His Majesty Hrothgar requests that he send an ambassador with those who are traveling with Eragon. He would like to send his nephew Orik to represent dwarves in Ellesméra, to be fair since dwarves are affected as well." He paused, nervously awaiting Nightmare's reaction, as well as the others.

Error frowned thoughtfully as GB regarded Blue in a mute discussion. Nightmare went over this briefly. 

"It may slow us down in the journey, but it's necessary for equality. I have no quarrel with the decision. You?" He glanced at Error.

"Guess not. It makes sense. Fairness is why I'm staying here anyway." He shrugged. Nightmare turned back to Jarsha.

"And what of the summons?" 

The kid smiled awkwardly. "Nasuada asks you come, if you decide to. She's requested to meet Eragon and says it involves you, too." 

Nightmare leaned to the left on the doorframe, letting Error draw closer to the kid. "Very well, we will come. You may leave. We can get there ourselves." 

Error chuckled softly at the excited boy, suddenly ruffling his hair. "You're a good kid." The glitch muttered, putting a huge smile on the child's face. 

"Thank you! It's an honor- really an honor to meet you! And a great honor to hear that from you! I will carry it with great pleasure! Lord Error and his Majesty Nightmare!" He bowed deeply before skipping away. 

Error chuckled quietly again. "Honor. Heh." He faced the others with a disquieted look in his sockets. "We going or what?" He asked. Nightmare frowned at the lack of self-esteem, but made no comment. "Yes. Go ahead and find Eragon if he is not already there. The rest of us shall meet you in the study." 

With a nod, Error disappeared into a cloud of glitches, Nightmare opening a portal leading just outside Ajihad's old study and guiding the others through as he noted the emotions on the other side. They were almost giving the guards heart attacks with their sudden appearances. It made him smirk humorously. 

As they finished filing into the hallway, the guards still barred the entrance whilst trembling slightly as Nasuada was notified of their arrival. Nightmare sighed internally at the fear. It wouldn't do to have allies fear them; they could get attacked because of that.

"You are brave men to hold at the ready despite our sudden appearance. We understand our magic is new and frightening, and it leaves you uneasy. Don't be so fearful of our kind, even skeletons bleed like any other. We may be different species of different worlds, but we still have the same moralities and fears at the core. And dispite everything, in the end that is all it boils down to." Nightmare assured them with a diplomatic smile, ignoring the silvery sheen of his bones that glimmered brighter. 

His speech worked. It alleviated much of the fear, leaving only distant apprehension behind as the guards relaxed. 

Nightmare smiled at them as he strode past the now open door, hands folded behind him as the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya followed him.

Once inside, they spotted Eragon and Saphira and noted a flowery scent before seeing the vase of flowers it originated. 

"That was really nice of you." Geno mentioned as the door shut behind them, raising a non-existent eyebrow at the dark King. Nightmare sighed.

"We can't have our own allies turn against us in fear. They are afraid of our power. Before, we did not have to worry about betrayal. Now, there are too many to take chances." 

Nasuada raised her head, watching the quiet conversation from behind the desk as Eragon waited patiently in his seat. The team, aside from Geno, Nightmare, and Error, all moved to stand by the desk. 

Error furrowed his non-existent eyebrows in worry. "There's no way I can deal with that, I can't be all polite and respectful like that. It pisses me off just thinking about it."

Nightmare chuckled. "Don't worry, that's why I'm doing that. All you need to do is be yourself, albeit with some extra patience. You're stubborn, intelligent, and understanding, while having a stout personality. That is something dwarves seem to respect. I admit, it's likely for the best you are remaining here. I have a feeling the elves would infuriate you to no end." 

Error scoffed, but didn't reply otherwise. Without further delay, the trio joining the others. Nasuada raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. 

"I wasn't expecting all of the Wyrdaí Islingrya to join us today, so I apologise for the lack of seats." She began, gesturing at the two chairs taken by Dust and Red, the pair grinning. 

Nightmare tilted his skull. "It's of no consequence. Often we all travel together, and it is likely this will be our last meeting all together for a while." He glanced around at the suddenly solemn faces. Nasuada took that into consideration. 

"That is understandable. I cannot say when you may be able to speak face to face again myself." She paused meaningfully. "Which brings me to the point of this meeting." 

She glanced at Eragon and back at them. "You do not judge upon money, do you?" She asked a little quietly. Nightmare blinked as Error scoffed. 

"I have all the money I want, but back home I stole anyway just to spite everyone." The glitch told her with a fond look in his eyelights. Blue stomped his foot and pouted. "And I hope you won't steal anymore!" 

"I won't, I won't….. as long as they aren't the Empire." 

"Error!" 

Geno sighed into his hand to hide his grin as Nightmare chuckled. "Yes, we don't put value in money. In fact, in the Multiverse we did in fact steal everything purely out of spite of our old enemy… Though I can promise that will not be done here, not anymore. There is nothing we value in the possession of the Empire, and the Varden, dwarves and elves are our allies." He assured. "So, that being said, what brought you to ask that question?" 

Nasuada's face crinkled up a little as she smiled at Blue and Error's antics, the energetic skeleton bickering with the grinning glitch. 

Chaos giggled, she may, or she may not, have been Error's assistant when he stole items and money from others back in the Multiverse… Which had been so much fun. She had received so many pets and ear scratches, which she adored. 

Geno nudged the two skeletons and mutely reminded them that now was not the place for the argument.

Error coughed. "Right. So wh¥'d you ask?" 

Nasuada flattened her hands across the desk before she turned serious, addressing mostly her vassal but including the others as well. "I have spent the last few days reviewing the Varden's affairs, such as they are. It was a dismal exercise." Her eyes flitted over to the monsters, almost unnoticeable in her brief moment of fear.

"We are poor, over-extended, and low on supplies, and few recruits are joining us from the Empire. I mean to change that." 

She lifted her head. "The dwarves cannot support us much longer, as it's been a lean year for farming and they've suffered losses of their own." Again, she hesitated. Whatever she was about to say next was going to be with great trust. Nightmare's eyelights softened, aware at how intimidating the Wyrdaí Islingrya must have appeared.

After a few seconds, Nasuada seemed to find what she was looking for. She folded her hands atop the desk. "Considering this, I have decided to move the Varden to Surda." A pause as she gauged their reaction. Nightmare gave none, except for a bit of admiration at the endevour she was suggesting. Error was lost in thought, Geno practically mirroring him as Chaos grinned. Red was mumbling to Dust incredulously as Killer shrugged carelessly. Cross was silently at attention, but one could see the gears turning behind his sockets. Fresh was the only one with a perfect poker face, partially because he literally could not care. 

Nasuada continued. "It's a difficult proposition, I know, but one I believe necessary to keep us safe. Once in Surda, we will finally be close enough to engage the Empire directly." 

"I thought King Orrin didn't dare openly oppose Galbatorix." Eragon suddenly protested. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that was a thing." Red agreed.

Nasuada smiled, but it was more of a grimace. "His stance has changed since we defeated the Urgals. He will shelter and feed us and fight by our side. Many Varden are already in Surda, mainly women and children who couldn't or wouldn't fight. They will also support us, else I will strip our name from them." 

Eragon leaned forward as Red looked even more confused. Fresh smirked just behind the edgy skeleton, Blue having a silent discussion with GB as the other hummed. 

"How did you communicate with King Orrin so quickly?" The human asked. 

"Why is that your question?" Killer asked him before Cross kicked him in the leg. "You sonofa-" the monochrome held up a phone that was long dead. Killer blinked in remembrance, quietly cursing. 

Nasuada took the chance to explain. "The dwarves have a system of mirrors to relay messages through their tunnels. They can send a dispatch from here to the western edge of the Beor Mountains in less than a day. Couriers then transport it to Aberon, capital of Surda. Fast as it is, that method is still too slow when Galbatorix can surprise us with an Urgal army and give us less than a day's notice. I intend to arrange something far more expedient between the Du Vrangr Gata and Hrothgar's magicians before we go." 

A few of them blinked in surprise, that was a rather creative form of communication. Nasuada opened one of the desk drawers and brought out a scroll, continuing. "The Varden will depart Farthen Dûr within the month. Hrothgar has promised safe passage through the tunnels. Moreover, he sent a force to Orthíad to remove the last vestiges of Urgals and seal the tunnels so no one can invade the dwarves by that route again. As this may not be enough to guarantee the Varden's survival, I have a favor to ask of you." This she largely directed at Eragon. He nodded. "I am yours to command."

"Perhaps." She glanced at Saphira and the Wyrdaí Islingrya, notably Nightmare as she responded. "In any case this is not a command, and furthermore, I ask something similar of the rest of you, should you decide to agree with me." 

Nightmare leaned closer, curious as to the request. Error did the same opposite of him beside Eragon.

"I would like you to think carefully before replying." Nasuada informed her vassal before addressing everyone. "To help rally support for the Varden, I wish to spread word throughout the Empire that a new Rider- named Eragon Shadeslayer- and his dragon, Saphira, have joined our cause, as well as a new race of magic greater than the elves. Skeletons. However, I would like your permission before doing so." 

Nightmare and Error regarded each other as the rest all recoiled slightly with a wide range of reactions. The King of Negativity spoke first. "Given our former status in the Multiverse, it is best you referred to us as two Kings or Lords, or even gods if you prefer; just not our names. We can use this opportunity to draw in other monsters lost in Alagaësia to the Varden before Galbatorix finds them. There is already enough of our kind fallen to him." Error nodded. "It really is a disappointment. I always thought Yandere would join us in the end." 

Red shuddered. "Fuck him. He's beyond psychotic." His eyelights were small and shaking. "Is your rib okay?" Blue asked gently of the angsty skeleton. Red shot him a dirty look. "M'fine." He huffed. 

"So you allow word to be spread?" Nasuada questioned of them. 

"Yes. Even if we decided no, it would have spread nonetheless." Nightmare told her. 

Blueberry perked up, posing dramatically. "Of course, the magnificent Blue will be quite popular! While I may not approve of such overly violent behaviors like this war, I will do as I must! I am very cool, after all." 

Error chuckled softly as most of the rest hid their dopey smiles at the precious Blueberry, Chaos giggling madly. 

"And I'm cool, too! I just need SKITTLES." Instantly everyone leaned away. Error just grinned. "You'll get Skittles again, don't worry." He told her serenely, Red giving him a morbidly enraged face as the glitch patted the Temmie's head. 

Nasuada seemed close to asking about it… but decided against it. She instead looked to her vassal. 

"Eragon?" 

He put a hand on Saphira's side, finishing a private conversation. "Do what you see fit. If this is how we can best assist the Varden, so be it." 

She leaned back. "Thank you. All of you. I know it is a lot to ask for some of you. Now," she changed the subject. "As we discussed before the funeral, I expect you Eragon to travel to Ellesméra and complete your training, with the Wyrdvrangr and Eldjierdar representatives accompanying you." 

"With Arya?" He asked.

"Of course. The elves have refused contact with both humans and dwarves since she was captured. Arya is the only being who can convince them to emerge from seclusion." 

"Can't she use magic to tell them of her rescue?" 

Nasuada shook her head. "Unfortunately not. When the elves retreated into Du Weldenvarden after the fall of the Riders, they placed wards around the forest that prevent any thought, item, or being from entering it through arcane means, though not from exiting it, if I understood Arya's explanation. Thus, Arya must physically visit Du Weldenvarden before Queen Islanzadi will know she is alive, that you, Saphira and the Wyrdaí Islingrya exist, and of the numerous events that have befallen the Varden these past few months." She passed the scroll she had been holding for several minutes to Eragon. A wax sigil was imprinted upon it. 

"This is a missive for Queen Islanzadí, telling her about the Varden's situation and my own plans. Guard it with your life; it would cause a great deal of harm in the wrong hands. I hope that after all that's happened, Islanzadí will feel kindly enough toward us to reinitiate diplomatic ties. Her assistance could mean the difference between victory and defeat. Arya knows this and has agreed to press our case, but I wanted you, and all of you aware of the situation too, so you could take advantage of any opportunities that might arise." She spoke to everyone. Nightmare and Error both nodded, the glitch glancing at the King of Negativity.

Eragon tucked the scroll away. "When will we leave?" He asked. "Tomorrow morning… unless anyone has something already planned?" 

A short chorus of "No"'s.

"Good." She laced her fingers together. "You should know, one other will be traveling with you."

Eragon seemed confused as Nightmare nodded. "Yes, Orik. I have no objections to the decision; it  _ is _ in the interest of equality." 

She faced him. "I presume he sent a message ahead of my summons?" 

"It arrived with the summons. The messenger is a good kid, y'know?" Error added with a half-smile. "Reminds me of someone.." 

"Was it Jarsha?" Nasuada questioned further. "Yeah. He's a pretty innocent little guy." Dust muttered with a grimace. "I'd forgotten what an innocent kid was like." He said in an even quieter voice. 

The leader of the Varden gave a sad smile, having heard of Dust's past. "If that bothers any of you-" "No! It doesn't! Don't trouble yourself with tha-hat." Killer interrupted, non-existent eyebrows furrowed in a worried expression, white rings glimmering in the depths of his sockets.  _ "Is Killer alright?" _ GB asked in Wingdings. Dust waved him to stay quiet. Blueberry nudged the skeleblaster to silence as well.

After a moment of dead silence, Nasuada let it go. "Very well.."

Eragon came to the rescue by changing the subject. "Do you really mean to attack the Empire?" He spoke quickly, Killer blinking rapidly as the rings faded… but didn't entirely vanish, either. 

"You said yourself that the Varden are weak. It doesn't seem like the wisest choice. If we wait-" "If we wait, Galbatorix will only get stronger." Nasuada interrupted him, finally taking her attention off the normally dark-eyed skeleton. "This is the first time since Morzan was slain that we have even the slightest opportunity of catching him unprepared. He had no reason to suspect we could defeat the Urgals- which we did thanks to all of you- so he won't have readied the Empire for invasion." 

_ Invasion! _ Saphira cried.  _ And how does she plan to kill Galbatorix when he flies out to obliterate their army with magic? _

"What she said." Red agreed loudly, prompting Eragon to explain what she said. Nasuada only shook her head. "From what we know of him, he won't fight until Urû'baen itself is threatened. It doesn't matter to Galbatorix if we destroy half the Empire, so long as we come to him, not the other way around. Why should he bother anyway? If we do manage to reach him, our troops will be battered and depleted, making it all the easier for him to destroy us." 

"But you still didn't answer." Dust pointed out. Nasuada spread her hands a little helplessly. "That's because I can't yet. This will be a long campaign. By its end you might be powerful enough to defeat Galbatorix, or the elves may have joined us… and their spellcasters are the strongest in Alagaësia. No matter what happens, we cannot afford to delay. Now is the time to gamble and dare what no one thinks we can accomplish. The Varden have lived in the shadows for too long- we must either challenge Galbatorix or submit and pass away." 

Nightmare felt the growing excitement of change and wonderment in the monsters of the Wyrdaí Islingrya, as well as sour notes of apprehension, trepidation emanating from Eragon. 

"You are making a bold move, Nasuada." He nodded appreciatively. "Not many can do what you are doing right now." He didn't need to feel emotions to see the gratitude in her eyes. 

"But what of you, Nasuada?" Eragon prompted. "Will you be safe while I'm gone? I must think of my vow. It's become my responsibility to ensure that you won't have your own funeral soon." 

She waved at the door, indicating the guards outside. "You needn't fear, I am well defended." Then glanced at her desk. 

"I will admit." She continued in a lower voice. "One reason for going to Surda is that Orrin knows me of old and will offer his protection. I cannot tarry here with you and Arya gone and the Council of Elders with power. They won't accept me as their leader until I prove beyond a doubt that the Varden are under my control, not theirs." 

After a moment's hesitation, Nasuada squared her shoulders and lifted her head. "Go now, Eragon. Wyrdaí Islingrya. Ready your horse and what steeds you may ride, gather supplies, and be at the north gate by dawn." 

Eragon bowed, as did Blue, and even Cross (though awkwardly) copied this before they all made their way to the door. 

"Good luck Nasuada, leader of the Varden." Nightmare murmured before crossing the threshold of the study to the hallway beyond. 

…

The skeletons and Temmie had watched as Eragon flew off with Saphira, some of them waving after the pair. Then Horror made an alarming strangled noise.

"Horror?!" A few gasped, only to see what the cripple had caught sight of.

It was no other person than Sinead the fire elemental, a bright spark of candle orange amid the dark night of the vast mountain of Farthen Dûr. Error lifted a non-existent eyebrow. "Well, if it isn't the weird lady." 

Dust was busy elbowing Horror. "Don't scare us like that, you gurgling maniac." He grumbled. The broken skeleton just growled softly, holding both his old and new axes in each hand. "She said she'd appear when it was time." He rasped. 

Red faced him. "The hell you mean by that?" He demanded. 

Horror only grunted and shouldered his way through their group, strutting over to the woman in the distance. 

Everyone stared after him until he glanced over his shoulder, only a too-wide socket and bloodred eyelight showing. "Comin'?" The Sans asked. Geno scoffed. "You can be less creepy about it, you're acting like we're walking to our doom." He teleported beside him. 

Nightmare glanced at Error, who shrugged expressively. With his own shrug, the pair of gods started after them, urging the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya to follow. After ten seconds, they all just teleported over. 

The place was unsettling, an impossible breeze somehow blowing despite the stagnant air of Farthen Dûr. They were in the remnants of a funeral pyre, ash floating around their feet, kicked up with every step. Sinead was picking through the powder, picking up lost Urgal weapons and stained metal that had once belonged to  _ something. _

"Hello!" She called out cheerily, back facing them as she dug through the rubble.

Rising from the floor was something eerily similar to monster dust.

Wrenching out a ruined Urgal sword, Sinead faced them, smiling tightly as she placed the blade in a wide basket she was carrying. "Why the long faces? Is the place too morbid?" 

With a nervous sound, GB nodded. Sinead sighed, suddenly disappointed. "I'm sorry it bothers you so." She told him, now somber. 

Glancing around the ashen place, she sighed. "I just thought it would be nice to honor them like this. And it's symbolic, in a way." Dipping her fingers into the dark powder, she let it slip through, some particles catching air and drifting away.

"You see, even those made of flesh, like humans, dwarves, elves,  _ Urgals _ \- they become dust in the end as well. Sometimes a little heat can speed it up." 

Nightmare squinted as some ash landed on his sleeves and shirt. "You want us here for some reason." It wasn't a question. Sinead nodded as though it were.

"Yes. I do. I'm here for many reasons. And you are here because I want you to be. Number one, I want to remind you all that our kinds are not all that different. I think I've accomplished that goal. So that brings me to number two." 

She regarded them all. "You are all very much aware that Alagaësia plays by different rules. Not all of you can just rely on your magic, not as much as you used to. I think Nightmare understands this best, don't you Alalëa?" 

He stiffened at the name, but said nothing. The others all rolled it around, the gears turning in their minds as they figured out what it was. Sinead strode closer, eliminating the space between her and the monsters. She set the basket of scrap metal and broken weapons on the ashen earth. 

"Some of you need weapons, like Horror and his axe. Böetq Blädr." She waved at the waraxe as the skeleton pointed it at her in warning. 

"I don't need a damn weapon!" Dust snorted. "I said some of you, not all." She spoke sternly. Then she crossed her arms, staring at the Wyrdaí Islingrya evenly. 

"What most of you need is an aid. Something conductive of both grammaryé and vanyalí. Luckily, I'm well aware of how to produce such a thing. Horror already has something of this; it's the axe." 

The creepy skeleton blinked before staring down at his blade. Everyone else stared at it as well. "I thought you made it, Horror." Killer muttered. "We.. well I had her help." The other responded scratchily. 

"She insisted on the jewels and shit.." 

Indeed, there were a few red crystals imbedded into the handle, both opaque and transparent. Sinead gave a soft smile as Geno shot her a look.

"Are the crystals enchanted??" He demanded.

"No more than their natural state.. and what Horror imbued into them by forging that wepon himself. It's compatible." She hummed. Horror slowly traced his gaze back to the fire elemental, a rosy pindot flickering in his right eyesocket. 

"And those other ones you helped me make..?" 

She smiled a little more fully. "I suggested those for a reason." Sinead whispered softly.

Nightmare leaned in closer. "What on Earth are you talking about?" He questioned, noting how Horror looked around frantically in growing shock.

"Then who? Who? Who they for, lady?" The cripple demanded.

"Calm down, Horror." Dust and Blue both grabbed him by either side and just held him there as the broken skeleton stopped tensing up. Sinead took a large step back, waving her hands at the whole of the Wyrdaí Islingrya. "Relax, Grathr!" She exclaimed boldly. "It's for the rest of you guys!" 

The entire group shifted its' attention to the fire elemental in a deadpan. "But why?" Dust questioned flatly. She smiled amiably. "Honestly, I think it's best you all find out with time and use of them. After all, those of you who own your own weapons need something more capable in a prolonged and extreme battle. I think you've reached that conclusion on your own." 

Fresh chuckled from the background, having been rather quiet lately. He pulled out two halves of a broken bat from his inventory. It was crusted with dried blood. Sinead grimaced at the sight. 

"I have something much better for you." She pulled out something heavy from her own inventory. "It was actually quite the creative venture, making this. It's basically a mace, but shaped like a bat. You can thank Horror for forging the main shape itself. However, I suggest you clean it after each use." 

The spikes on it were triangular prisms, several different kinds of crystals and all in the brighter, colorful side of the spectrum. Fresh leaned back from the offering in surprise, his sunglasses reading WOAH.

"For me, brah?" He pointed at himself, impressed.

"No, I just want you to admire it- of course it's for you, silly." 

Fresh took it gingerly in his hands, testing the balance and the sharpness of the spikes on his palm as his grin stretched wider. Then he glanced up at everyone else. "This is totes rad, my dudes." He was grinning in genuine excitement, swinging the mace lightly. Nightmare was impressed, Error as well. Sinead lifted a finger. 

"You should also know that the weapons are named. It's traditional to name weapons, especially those of war. So remember this: that is Kvïstrmalmr. Don't look too deep into the name, it only sounds cool in this language." 

"It means metal stick." Error said drily, apparently not realizing he knew the meaning inherently.

Sinead clucked guiltily. "Yeah, it's not so creative. So we got literal. Bite me." Horror perked up. "Not literally, ya doof!" She exclaimed, then snickered to herself. "My Lord, you guys…" 

The fire elemental straightened again. "Anyway, back to business." She clapped once, her hands producing a small mushroom cloud of flame as she produced a blade with a dramatic flourish. 

"Is that a pirate sword?" Killer asked with a snort. Sinead scoffed, glaring at him as she dropped her hands to the side. "Excuse me? This is a  _ scimitar. _ Just because they were a popular weapon of seafarers doesn't mean they're  _ exclusive _ to pirates. It's actually a type of blade with a rich history." She miffed, tossing it up in the air and catching it by the blade. Sinead leaned forward and offered the handle to Geno. A few gems of green, blue and red decorated the handle, including a dark green-blue stone speckled with red in the middle of the cross-guard. The handle itself seemed crafted out of a green and red crystal, hidden under a leather grip. Geno furrowed his non-existent eyebrows at it. "I don't really use weapons, especially  _ pirate swords _ ." 

Sinead deadpanned at him. "Take it, Geno. You have no idea how much you are going to need it. Besides, Horror made it. I just added a few things. Like switching the metal handle out for something I carved personally out of bloodstone. That ring on the end, the pommel, is made of blue Beryl. That stone in the cross-guard is cuprite with chrysocolla, I picked it out myself from an AU that's long gone. And yes. These gems originate from the Multiverse." 

Geno froze, staring at the sword being offered to him as the others all reached out to trace the blade with their phalanges. Then the bloody glitch took it, holding it a little awkwardly. "It does feel like something from the Multiverse." He mumbled. 

"Thank you." Sinead whispered to him. "Use Hivtrfreohr wisely."

She moved on to face Blueberry, who bounced up and down excitedly. "Do I get something??" He squealed. She grinned. "You absolutely do." She chuckled, bringing out a large, lavishly designed weapon. "Hey. It barely even looks like how I made it." Horror complained. Sinead chuckled slightly. "I made more than a few changes, I'm sorry. I thought, since it was going to Blue, it could use a little more  _ flair. _ " 

Said skeleton looked ready to take off into space. Horror stared hard for a moment, then shrugged, clutching his axes. "That's fair." Sinead grinned. She faced the increasingly hyperactive Sans and laid the hammer across her palms, bowing her head a little. "I give to thee, Fyrnhamarr. Try not to kill any of us with it, Eldgath." She continued in a tired voice. 

Blueberry took it reverently, lifting it up and admiring the craftsmanship in awe, his eyelights starred. GB crooned curiously beside him, his eyelights also dilated, though still circular. 

Then Berry exploded.

He took off running, only a blur as he laughed maniacally and swung his new toy around. GB let out a worried warble before teleporting after the hyperactive skeleton. 

_ "Remember me!"  _ He called out back in Wingdings over his shoulder as he tried desperately to catch up with the overexcited Swap Sans.

They all stared in shock.

"Eh, he'll get over it." Sinead waved, pulling out another one. 

"The fuck just happen?" Killer asked flatly. 

Sinead shrugged, holding out a large dagger. Killer then recoiled as it occurred to him she was giving him something.

"Wait, that's for me?" He pointed between himself and the blade. Sinead blinked slowly, still holding out the blade. 

Killer edgily reached for it, touching the hilt. His sockets widened as his hand closed around the grip and pulled it away.

"Horror, did you make this?" He asked in awe.

"Fire lady helped. A lot. And she added those dumb crystals." He pointed out. Sinead sighed. "They're not dumb; they have great value. Number one, they contain magical properties from the AU's they originated, number two, crystals are used to store energy here in Alagaësia. In case you haven't noticed, all of your weapons are brimming with power, all at your disposal. Don't you dare waste any of it. Take that dagger for example. At the end of the hilt there's a rhodinite crystal imbedded. By the blade is red jasper. Something I forgot to explain. The AU's they came from were a variant that had very powerful magic tied to their gems. Basically, they have a sort of spiritual consciousness? Carrying them is like having a sort of guardian angel. That's the oversimplified version of it." 

"So you're saying they'll do something?" Dust questioned. Sinead shrugged, tilting a hand side to side. "Sort of? More like psychic protection, wisdom, that sort of thing. You see, I put in specific stones that either aid you guys or compliment your personalities. Maybe I should give you an example. Like this dagger, Bragh Knífr." She waved at the weapon in Killer's hand. 

"The rhodinite at the end is ironically in Nightmare's case, an emotional balancer. It aids in healing shock and panic, is beneficial in ridding one of self-destruction, codependency, and abuse. It can be used to help deal with betrayal and abandonment. It recognizes that revenge is self-destructive and teaches one to remain calm in dangerous and upsetting situations. It also builds up confidence and alleviates confusion, though those are more extraneous in relevance to Killer." She explained carefully, yet vaguely. 

Killer's sockets narrowed. "You sayin' I have emotional issues? I don't even  _ have _ normal emotions." 

She raised an eyebrow at him. "You just proved my point. You have issues."

Red suddenly scoffed loudly. "How the hell is it supposed to do  _ any _ of that?" 

She shrugged. "The how normally doesn't concern me, but from what I know, it alters your subconscious gently. It also 'speaks' through the subconscious. Don't ask me how. I just studied the effects, not the cause behind them." 

She traced her finger down the slightly serrated edge, Killer recoiling as a bead of her blood followed it, a droplet of liquid fire. "The thing is" she mused. "Is once the crystals find an owner, they bond. They have a sort of loyalty, especially certain types. And since I happened to have them in surplus, waiting to have purpose, I gave them what they wanted while helping you guys. Do you understand?" She asked them.

The Wyrdaí Islingrya slowly nodded, some reluctantly so. Nightmare spoke next. 

"If these crystals have such purpose, are they even fit for weapons?"

She tilted her head at him. "Not always, I'll admit. But in the case of war, they can keep their owner levelheaded and… sane." She hesitated, because of course most of them were not exactly sane.

Geno's eyelight flickered over his new, pale white blade with greenish blue and red gems. "What about mine?" He asked curiously. "Yours?" Sinead replied. She stared at the scimitar almost lovingly, tracing it's form delicately, spilling more orange, molten blood on the sharp edge. "Can you not?" The bloody glitch muttered tensely. 

Sinead drew back her arm. "Sorry. One cares for their work, even when it's only partially theirs." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, I assume you want to know about those crystals?" Geno nodded, eyeing her carefully. Sinead tapped on the blue-green stone with a red patch across it's center on the cross-guard of the sword. "That." She said. "Is cuprite with chrysocolla. It helps one learn to, or grow more comfortable with speaking the truth. It is a teacher of the 'humanitarian' principles. It encourages one to help others. All traits that would complement your personality." 

She moved her finger over to the stone under the leather grip, picking at it slightly. "That is bloodstone." It was dark, blue-green with patches of rustic red-orange. "It's said to banish evil, and falls under the category of a guiding stone. It heightens intuition and increases creativity, though the last being rather redundant, and it keeps out undesirable influences. It bestows courage and teaches one how to avoid dangerous situations by strategic withdrawal and flexibility. It encourages selflessness and idealism. Assists in acting in the present moment. Dispels confusion and enhances the decision-making process. Said to revitalize the mind. Also reduces irritability, aggressiveness, and impatience." 

She glanced up at Geno's skeptical face and sighed. "Look, I chose these gems based off of color scheme to match you, then sorted through the types so I didn't give you something that would have adverse effects on your personalities. Believe me, if I hadn't, you could have gotten something that would force you to face your worst memories, or something that would make you  _ sexually active. _ There are gems that turn people on and that hopefully disgusts you as much as it does me." 

Dust and Red both stepped away from her, Killer just groaned in disgust. Nightmare and Geno scowled as Error blanched. Cross frowned slightly, Chaos sticking her tongue out. Fresh remained indifferent, save for his sunglasses, reading EW=EW. 

Sinead sighed and shook her head. "Let me just get on with it, since I've killed the mood." She pulled out a pair of swords, their sheaths solid black and white. The pommels on both were identical black and white patterned rings, in the cross-guard were more black stones with white splotches. She presented them to Cross how actually flinched backwards. "I like my knife." He explained bluntly. She nodded. "I know, but you've already realized how hard it is to block attacks with one ungainly blade, have you not?" 

He held a hand over the thin weapons hesitantly. "I don't need…" He didn't even complete that thought. He seemed conflicted. So Sinead hefted up the sword encased in black. "This, is Haina. Harm." She looked into his sockets carefully. Then her blue eyes flicked back to the blade. She tapped the pommel ring and hilt, the grip a white ribbon. "This ring and under that cloth is a simple, but very powerful stone. Merlinite. All that's important in it's limited capabilities is a sort of record, as well as its' ability to hold imprints. I've actually found that it's possible to enchant that. These swords will always find you. Like a boomerang if thrown, and given the placement of the stone it will always meet you hilt-first. I think you can use that to your advantage." 

She smiled and brought forth the blade in the white sheath, black cloth grip. She tapped the stone in the middle of the cross-guard with the other sword's pommel ring. "In both of the swords is snowflake Obsidian. A calming stone, putting one in their right frame of mind. It helps teach one to value mistakes as well as successes. It's a stone of purity. It can help one learn to find empowerment in isolation and loneliness." 

She smiled warmly, and briefly Nightmare wasn't sure if he smelled campfire s'mores or not. "This sword is Harmr, Sorrow." She closed her eyes serenely for a moment, then stared Cross full in the face. "Two swords, two owners, though one body." Cross's eyelights died and he stiffened. 

"How did you know that?" He asked flatly. 

Sinead only smiled. "I know everything, Cross. So trust me when I say; you're going to need these." 

They both stared at each other, one beyond tense, the other peacefully flickering. 

Then Cross grabbed them in one hand and continued to glare at the fire elemental. Sinead smirked and faced Chaos. "You aren't forgotten, human Temmie." She presented a large, bluish knife with a red wire around the black cloth grip, the handle a deep blue stone under the ribbon and red wire. A conversely see-through yellow gem rested on either side of the blade with an equally transparent sky blue crystal at the butt of the handle. Chaos admired it with wide eyes. The blade was matt black, only a faint gleam bounced off it's surface. 

"What's it made of?" The Temmie whispered in awe. Sinead grinned. "Good question." She pointed at the pale gem on the end of the blade. "Celestite. It imparts gentle strength and inner peace despite urging towards greater openness to new experiences. Celestite calms and sharpens the mind, assists in conflict resolution and maintaining a harmonious atmosphere in times of stress. It can.. cool firey emotions. A stone of mental clarity."

Pointing at the handle under the black ribbon grip she went on. "Sodalite. Unites logic with intuition. Instills a drive for truth and an urge towards idealism, so one can remain true to themself and and stand up for their beliefs. It also brings harmony and solidarity of purpose. Stimulates trust and companionship, too. All the while, it encourages rational thought, objectivity, truth, and intuitive perception. Sodilate calms the mind, bringing emotional balance, (ironically) and calms panic attacks. It can transform a defensive or oversensitive personality, releasing core fears, phobias, guilt, and control mechanisms that hold one back from who they truly are. Enhances self-esteem, self-acceptance, and self-trust; though I know you aren't quite in so much need of those." 

Taking a deep breath, Sinead pointed out the yellow gem. "Instills confidence and the ability to find one's own strength. Heals shock and trauma while also instilling the courage to deal with traumatic situations. Lastly, it ameliorates depression and releases painful memories so they can be laid to rest. The last of which you might find some benefit from." 

Sinead straightened, clapping. "Whoo! A lot of words! Did I miss anyone who still has questions?" She asked, staring right at Fresh. The team all glanced at one another rather awkwardly while saying generally no. 

"Nah, I'm good." Fresh stated, not caring to hear about whatever was in his mace. Cross was peering down the length of his swords. Sinead raised an eyebrow, but made no comment. She faced Nightmare.

"You know a weapon must be made soon." She told him quietly, drawing everyone's attention back to the present. The King of Negativity scoffed. "I absolutely  _ don't _ need any." 

"Perhaps not yet, but I know things are falling into place. An object of power will be necessary… for the  _ both of you. _ " She stared deep into the Guardian, and he knew.. she wasn't talking about Error, for he was unnoticed as she focused solely on Nightmare. 

"I don't have what you will need yet, but I know what is to be imperative. You once had a weapon. It is still within your possession… Perhaps you should look at it once again. That is all I suggest before I go."

He furrowed his non-existent eyebrows. "And where will you be going? When do you plan on reappearing next?"

"In Ellesméra, when I have created what you need." 

"How do you plan on reaching it before us?"

Sinead laughed, a light sound, dancing through the air.

"I know everything, Alalëa." She reminded him in a rich tone, before vanishing into a cloud of flame and embers.

Error let out a loud glitch as Nightmare only sighed.

That fire elemental is the only being I cannot ever understand…


	8. Leaving Farthen Dûr

It was half an hour before dawn when everyone showed up at Tronjhiem's north gate. They chatted quietly, knowing full well that they wouldn't be able to very soon. 

Geno was petting Snowfire, the horse was fidgiting, having not been ridden in a week. Fresh was grinning, as usual, but even that seemed a little strained. Blueberry was talking up a storm with Error, not wanting to leave his friend behind. He kept obsessing over his new hammer, the blue gems imbedded into the bluish metal. The glitch was happy to engage in conversation with him, knitting as he listened.

Nightmare saw this and felt a smile twitch across his face. But nevertheless, he approached Fresh. The parasite glanced up at him, stiffening slightly but giving no other sign of seriousness. 

"Fresh." He addressed him quietly. "Yeah, broski?" The 90's reject casually replied.

Nightmare slid down, sitting cross-legged across from him. "How are you holding up?" He subtly mentioned the Soul. Fresh's face fell a little, sunglasses blank.

Orik was approaching as the parasite spoke in a surprisingly subdued voice. "I gots like… a year, broski. Ya gave me a year. But you gotta understand, Nighty brah, I don't  _ feel _ like that'll do nothin'. I feel like.. somethin' is gonna happen, mate. I feel it.. heck, even my host feels it." 

The fear was rolling off of him in waves. Nightmare leaned over and gripped his shoulder as Fresh hugged himself. 

"You're going to be alright. Even if your host dies, which I see he'd be grateful for, we will find a way for you. Understand, Fresh?" 

The parasite hesitated, unsure of himself. Then he gave a big smile. "You got it, kingly boss yo!" 

Nightmare frowned at him. He could actually see the sweat from the other. He reached over and pulled off the sunglasses, pulling back faster than Fresh could grab at them. He caught a glimpse of a cracked Soul and waving magenta purple tentacles before Fresh's hands flew up to the socket. The tentacles within the other side retreated into the skull, hissing faintly. 

"Why'd ya do that?" Fresh whined as a purple-tinted eyelight appeared in the right side, staring hard. 

"I need to see it." Nightmare said calmly. 

"Why, though?" Fresh asked, notably more serious. Nightmare gave him a look. The neon rainbow one tensed up a little, 

"Fresh." 

"A'ight, I get it, I get it." He whispered, loosening the hand over his left socket. Nightmare sighed, grabbing his wrist and pulling it away, only for the parasite itself to hide it from view. "Fresh, let me see it." 

"Let him see it." Another voice caught them both off guard. Fresh flinched and hid his true self deeper in the eyesocket as Nightmare glared at the owner of the voice. 

It was XChara. 

The ghost flickered, crossing his arms as he stared at the parasite intensely. Nightmare huffed. "He doesn't feel safe with you staring, fool." 

"I saw you give him an Apple just as much as Cross did. I care about him, too. So open up parasite, so we can help you." 

Fresh glared at the ghost child, actually glared angrily. 

"You up and spooked us. Don't you haunt me, X." The last part he dropped his lingo entirely. 

"We don't have the time for this,none of us know when Arya's going to show up. Just show us the Soul." 

Fresh squinted, his true self hissing. Then he relented, dropping his shoulders and barely suppressing a shudder. "Fine." He peeled back his own hand, visibly shaking as tentacles waved from the inner recesses of his host's skull. 

Then he went slack, hands falling to his sides as the purple creature heaved a little more of itself out into the open, shaking. 

XChara's eyes went wide, the spirit drifting backward a little as Nightmare cupped his hand beneath the parasite. It wrapped several appendages around him and let out a soft, reedy whine. It's yellow eyes kept looking back at the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya a little ways off, blissfully unaware of what was happening here. 

"Fresh, you didn't have to leave your host." Nightmare stressed as it plopped fully into his hand, shockingly heavy. The creature whined, glaring at him as it writhed. Then it sort of stood on four tendrils and it's center opened up, revealing a  _ mouth _ with something glowing whitish purple inside. XChara looked like he was going to be sick, then steeled himself as the creature coughed, flailing several tentacles in his host's direction. 

"What is it?" Nightmare asked tiredly, wishing the parasite would just show him what he needed to see. 

Then it pointed a single tentacle as XChara gasped. 

Oh. The host was awake. Nightmare froze, having not been prepared for that event. The skeleton before him was emotionally.. dull. He wasn't all there. Because his Soul was being slowly consumed by a parasite, that was to be expected. The Sans looked up at him with violet eyelights that faded to lilac. A single tear traced his cheekbone. 

"Hello Nightmare." 

He wasn't sure what to expect. He had never been in this particular kind of situation, one where Fresh releases any one of his hosts from his control in the Guardian's presence. It was just as new for XChara, the ghostly kid freaking out silently. 

"Hello." Nightmare responded a little blankly. 

The unfamiliar Sans shivered weakly before him. "Yeah, this must be pretty new for you. To be fair.." he sighed wearily. "Being possessed by Fresh is pretty new for me, too. And the idea of you being a good guy, but that's not so important right now.. heh." 

Fresh whined, slightly forgotten for a moment. 

Nightmare glanced at the parasite, noticing that it was holding what he was looking for. A Soul. He peered back at the host, who chuckled hoarsely. "You think I'll fight or something? Want him far away from me?" 

"Well." XChara started nervously. "Yeah." 

The Sans only sniffed, rubbing his sockets. 

"I used to think his hosts were in agony too. Because getting your Soul literally eaten hurts or something…" Another tear. 

"The only pain there is isn't from that thing at all. It's just.. emotional. He picks Sanses that  _ want _ to die. That's what's hurting. Something in their AU drove each one to want to die. Like me and.. Frisk.." 

His tears were tinted red. Nightmare was feeling a sort of morbid curiosity. "What was your AU?" 

The other coughed. "Flowerfell #58." He was blunt, even a little cold about it. Nightmare blinked in understanding. Every one of that chain of AU's was very cruel to it's Sans and Frisk. 

"I begged Error to kill me when he appeared." He glanced at the glitch chuckling as he spoke with Orik, Eragon, Blue and GB happily. Nightmare followed his gaze. 

"He said he would, but his brother needed help. Just for a little while, right?" He took Fresh's true self from Nightmare's hands and the two stared at each other, as though in their own little world. 

Then he looked at the ghost and the King of Negativity. "I only agreed because I die in the end. It's actually.. nice in a way. I at least did some good. Alagaësia makes it kinda better, too… Error destroyed my AU. It doesn't matter if I go back home anyway. But this place, I get to help do something so much more. Help other monsters have a future.. if the Multiverse gets sent here." He pet the parasite in his hand, the creature looking remarkably bashful as he did so. 

"I don't hate any of you. I honestly never cared much about the Multiverse before Frisk fell.. but now I hope those happier AU's really are something worth fighting for. Because I  _ want _ to make a difference now. I  _ want _ those better worlds to have a future. And.. I want Fresh to see that. I'm pretty sure he deserves a chance. He can't help what he is." 

Fresh was curled around the Soul. The Sans flinched a little as a faint crack emanated from it. 

"Uh.." XChara coughed. "Can we see your Soul? I mean.." the flowerfell copy presented the parasite, the creature gazing up with beady yellow eyes and cradling the Soul. 

"Go ahead. It doesn't matter. I know I need to stay alive a little longer. It doesn't effect me so much. Longer I'm alive means the more I help. If I can hang on till he finds someone stronger than me, then I'll be happy." 

Nightmare stared at him for a long moment, then nodded. "You're a good monster. Thank you.. Sans." 

"Yeah, yeah. I don't really care." He mumbled as the King of Negativity carefully pried the Soul from Fresh's grasp. 

It wasn't doing as well as he'd hoped. There were too many cracks that had reappeared since the fusion with the Apple. Clearly it hadn't absorbed it well. Nightmare tsked, but said nothing as he struggled to heal some of the damage. Magic was leaking from the cracks, congealing around the holes from Fresh's teeth. 

"God.. that's what it looks like?" The host asked incredulously. Fresh made a groaning sound like he was confirming that question. XChara clucked worriedly, the Cross suddenly teleported behind him. All three of them stiffened before both Cross and XChara held out their hands. 

"Relax, I called him over here." The human spirit told them. 

Fresh gurgled as his host stared. "Why?" Nightmare asked. 

"I want to help." The monochrome skeleton explained fretfully. He sat down, glancing between the rest of them. "I can heal. Besides, Chara had an idea." 

Nightmare cradled the fragile Soul as his bone-brows furrowed. "What sort of idea?" 

"Determination idea." Both Cross and XChara spoke at once. 

He pulled out his shared Soul. Half white monster, half vivid red human Determination. It glitched once, unable to decide whether to face upwards or downwards. XChara had disappeared. One of Cross's eyelights were a red X.

"We can spare a little Determination. Just enough to keep that Soul going for a little bit." They explained. Fresh squeaked from his place in his host's hands.

"Would it hurt?" The Sans asked. Cross rubbed the back of his neck vertebrae. "A little bit?.. Pretty sure it'll hurt us more." The flowerfell skeleton peered at the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya, Orik's bellowing laughter rolling from the group. 

"It won't keep me alive like him, will it?" He jabbed a thumb at Geno, the bloody glitch smiling under his scarf. 

"No, we don't even have enough Determination to do that to ourselves." Cross assured him. "Geno has about as much as a high-level Frisk. I can't understand how he isn't melted into a puddle, I really can't." He sighed. His Soul glitched again. "Do you agree to this?" He glanced between their faces, staring at Fresh a moment longer out of curiosity. 

Nightmare nodded slowly, then the parasite made a blep noise, writhing. Then the Sans took a deep, shaky breath. 

"Okay." He met Cross's eyelights. 

"For Frisk." He whispered under his breath.

Cross squared his shoulders and screwed his sockets shut, summoning a strange bone attack. "Fair warning." He said in a higher voice. "I've never seen or done this before. It's  _ been _ done to Chara though… once."

"That's reassuring." The Sans muttered fearfully, pulling the parasite to his chest. The creature wriggled to watch as Cross plunged the tip of the bone into the red side of his combined Soul. Nightmare threw his free hand over his teeth as Cross screamed into the gag. Then he went on to bite a fistful of clothing and groan into that.

A red light traveled up the bone slowly, the glow of the Soul dimming slightly. When he ripped it out, Nightmare held out the cracking, ruined, breaking Soul. Cross, with purple tears springing from his sockets, slumped over. "Cross!" Nightmare gasped, catching his subordinate with one arm. 

He suddenly reanimated, sitting upright and squeezing the makeshift syringe with two red eyelights. "It's fine. I got it." XChara's voice came from him. He roughly took the marred and abused Soul from Nightmare's hands and stared at the owner. "You might wanna cover your mouth." 

The Sans only had time to blanch before the bone was jabbed into the core of his being. His eyelights winked out and he doubled over, whimpering. Fresh warbled, crawling up and hanging off the other's face, staring into Nightmare's sockets. The King of Negativity reached over and peeled him off, rubbing circles on the other's back. "It'll be over soon, just hang in there. He's almost done, a few more seconds. It's okay." 

Sure enough, the transfusion was completed. The flowerfell Sans groaned, tears streaming down his face. Then he weakly wrapped his arms around Nightmare, hugging him and catching his breath. He just patted the other's spine. "You're stronger now. Just think about that." 

"Ye-yeah." He agreed. "Th-thank you, Nightmare… heh. I never thought I'd say that." He leaned back, wiping his face. 

Fresh peeped from his place in Nightmare's lap, looking between their faces with wide eyes. Cross and XChara had already passed out, the now red-tinted Soul floating above their hand. Nightmare grabbed it and pulled it over, studying it. 

A fair number of cracks had healed, but the still oozing wounds now leaked Determination as well. Nightmare frowned, wiping some of it away. 

Then he proceeded to heal them to the best of his ability. He actually did a pretty good job, at least in his opinion. Cross was waking up again by the time he finished. He helped his subordinate up to an upright position before offering the Soul to it's owner awkwardly. Fresh latched a few tentacles onto his arm, pulling himself up in an obvious gesture. 

"Shall I just give it straight to him?" He asked the host. The other looked solemn. "Yeah.." He said thoughtfully. Nightmare lowered his hand till it was within reach. Fresh looked at him with his beady eyes, blinking. 

"What?" 

Fresh then glared, before making a grumbling noise and reaching for the Soul. 

It was a strange sight. The mouth opened up as the tendrils pulled it closer, then it bit down. The victim gasped, bending over for a second at the shock of pain. Then, it seemed to pull the glowing object deeper, the skeleton shuddering as his Soul disappeared behind a row of black teeth. Nightmare couldn't help the wave of revulsion at the sight, and loathed himself because of it. 

The parasite chittered, the surprisingly emotive eyes appearing grateful before shutting. The creature curled up in Nightmare's lap. "Wait, I thought you were supposed to go back-" Cross started, only to be interrupted by a series of clicks. 

The host stirred. "I think.. it'll take a few minutes.." He spoke quietly, sockets half-lidded. "So I have a few minutes." 

He licked his teeth and weakly accessed his inventory. "Can I just say thank you?" He asked them. "Sure, but.. I think we all just did it for Fresh.." Cross muttered.

"Yeah.. but.. " He pulled out two objects. A red and gold scarf and a locket. 

"I know it seems corny, but.. I don't know where these would go when I die. They still mean a lot to me.. so will you?" 

He held out the scarf to Nightmare and the locket to Cross. "Please?" 

"I'll keep watch over this scarf." Nightmare told him kindly. "I promise." He amended. The other recoiled slightly. "You  _ promise?" _

He nodded, taking it and wrapping it up. 

With tears, he faced Cross, who was staring at the locket reverently, eyelights small. "You're giving me…" His voice was just a whisper. 

"Do you hate or something?" He pulled back.

"No!" Cross jumped, a little louder than intended. He enclosed the gold heart locket in a fist. "I'll guard it like mine; with my life." 

He pulled out his own locket, previously hidden under his clothes. He slipped the new one over his skull, displaying it next to the first. It had a faint red tinge, the older being slightly pale beside it. 

A tired but content smile spread across the Sans's face. 

"Thank you.." He glanced at the parasite, then over at the rest of the Wyrdaí Islingrya. 

"You should probably go talk to them. Arya could be arriving any minute now. I'll be right here. With him." He scooped the sleepy creature out of Nightmare's lap and placed it in his own. "Don't worry about me, okay? I have what I want." 

Nightmare slowly stood, not sure what to say. So he did his best. "You will be remembered."

He smiled sadly. "I'm only doing it because it's what Frisk would have wanted. I don't really.. expect you to understand." 

Cross made a choking sound. Nightmare shook his skull, pointing at the monochrome.

Cross rushed forward and hugged the flowerfell Sans. "You have  _ no idea. _ " He sobbed. Nightmare sighed. "I'll leave you alone now." And turned, walking away. 

He sat down between Dust and Geno as Error asked everyone to be quiet. "Oh, Nightmare. Just in time. Where's Cross?"

He gestured behind himself vaguely. "With Fresh." He answered truthfully. "Why do you ask?" 

The glitch stared hard for a second, then shrugged. "I've been knitting on and off since we arrived here at Farthen Dûr." He started, pulling something from his inventory. 

"Because I had an idea. I added stuff later on as things changed, but I thought we'd have something to indicate our status, y'know?" He went on, holding squares of cloth that were royal blue or violet. 

"These are armbands. They indicate we're Wyrdaí Islingrya, specifically which team of it. Wyrdvrangr and Eldjierdar, y'know?" He grinned a little. "It was kind of a fun project that I came up with." He admitted. 

"They're brilliant!" Blue exclaimed, grabbing one. 

"That really is a good idea." Eragon commented. 

"I have them marked." Error added, pointing out the symbol on it. It was a white Blaster hammer with three blueberries around it. Blue squealed in excitement. "I love it!!!" He danced in place, then slid it on his left arm, over the shirt. "It shouldn't fall off, either." Error told him. Blue hugged him. Error glitched, but endured it. "Okay.. I have others.." He reminded the energetic skeleton. 

"Oh. Right." He let go. 

Error smirked, holding up another armband. It was violet with a black pattern on both rims. He held it to Nightmare. There was a whitish silver crescent moon with 5 stars all around it. The King of Negativity took it, admiring the work. "Not bad." He commented. 

"You're the head of Wyrdvrangr, so you get the extra pattern." The glitch explained as the Guardian noticed that the pattern was black tendrils reaching in from the edges. He put it on his left arm as well. "I appreciate it. The armbands can help identify me and my team from Blue and GB for the elves. If GB can wear one." 

The skeleblaster trilled in agreement as Orik nodded approvingly. 

Error grinned. "A challenge I took on anyway." He brought out a blue one, the simple image of the side of a Gaster Blaster on it, eyelight ablaze. He gave it to the stunned GB. "It should stretch with you when you change." 

The animalistic skeleton took it like it was holy. 

_ "This. Is. Amazing." _ He choked out in Wingdings.

"You're part of the family, now. Of course." 

GB fit it onto his upper humerus over his sleeve, eyelights stars. 

Error chuckled and held up another. It was a slightly lighter violet to Nightmare's, with a red circle on it, the Deltarune woven in gold within said circle. "Red. Hope it suits you." He handed it off. The edgy Sans peered at it critically. 

"Guess I'll wear it." He said gruffly, slipping it over his left arm. "Though it's weird having the Deltarune on it." 

Error shrugged. "It made sense to me." 

Red shrugged as Error produced another and smiled lovingly at Chaos. The Temmie's eyes bulged as she gasped. It was a simple one, a Monster Soul with white glitches. The rest of the armband was blue, almost as light as Error's strings. She hugged it to her chest and squealed happily. "Thank you so much, Daddy!" 

"Anything." He ruffled her hair as she slipped it over her sweater sleeve.

Error sighed joyfully, then handed Killer another one. It was violet, clearly to represent Wyrdvrangr, with two knives crossing blades. One black with Determination red splattered over the blade, the other inverse of that. Killer smirked and put it on. "Nice." 

Geno was next, receiving a blue armband with a white circle. A red slash was sown onto the white. Geno raised his non-existent eyebrows at it. "That does fit me." He slipped it over his left arm. He smiled at the glitch as Horror received an armband, violet and adorned with only a simple axe, blood decorating the blade. Horror hummed in approval and continued to gaze at after it was on. 

Error then chuckled at the next armband. He held it out for everyone to see. "This one is mine." He stated before putting it on over his jacket sleeve on the left. It was royal blue with a a stripe the color of his strings at the top and a red version on the bottom. The only symbol on it was his name in black and all capital letters, white glitches sown around it. It nearly blended with the real glitches around him. 

Error beamed while handing Dust his armband. Lighter violet with a grey circle. Upon that circle was a red bone attack. Dust snickered, wearing it. "I thought you would've put monster dust on it, like a pile. Just do that and call it a day." 

"Nah, that's not inventive enough." Error shot back with a grin. 

"Where's Fresh and Cross?" He asked. "They were with you earlier, weren't they Nightmare?" Eragon quested. The King of Negativity nodded. But before he could speak, Cross appeared beside him. 

"Fresh is asleep. I spotted Arya and Nasuada approaching." 

"Sleeping? That's new." 

The monochrome skeleton nodded, grimacing. "What's that, anyway?" He waved at the last two armbands.

"That." Error started. "Is identification. How elves and dwarves can tell what part of the Wyrdaí Islingrya they're dealing with. Wyrdvrangr and Eldjierdar. They're personalized, too." He handed it over for Cross to admire. It was violet, for Wyrdvrangr, with a red X outlined in black on a white circle. Cross nodded and slid it on his left arm. "X-Event. Symbolic. Thanks." 

He hesitated, glancing off in the distance. Then he closed his sockets and sighed. 

"We met his host." He said quietly. Dust and Red both sat up immediately. 

"What do you mean?" Error asked tensely.

"I'm only saying anything because he said Fresh wasn't going to. But you need to know. He's halfway through his current host, both me and Boss have done what we can to extend how much time he has, but we're not sure if he can last till the Multiverse collapses." 

Error immediately faced Nightmare, feeling betrayed. Nightmare raised his hands. "Fresh asked me not to tell you under the promise he would when he was ready." Error softened. "Oh. Yeah. He wouldn't say anything until it was too late." 

Geno had already teleported away, presumably to hunt down his parasite brother and lecture him. 

Orik suddenly spoke up. "What is with this talk of hosting? I am confused." Error sighed as everyone else cringed. 

"Fresh is actually a parasite. A sentient parasite." Orik and Eragon both recoiled. 

"He can't help it, that's just what he is." Blue explained gently. 

"So why do you call him your brother?" Eragon questioned. "When he's a parasite?"

"Because he's still family." Error said sharply.

Geno appeared, the skeleton host leaning against him and cradling the purple creature as his other arm was draped over Geno's shoulders. 

"Found them." The bloody glitch informed them. 

Orik and Eragon backed away a little. 

"Holy shit, his glasses are gone." Killer stated the obvious. "Hi." Everyone flinched in surprise. 

"Wait wait wait wait, what happened to Fresh?" 

"Long story short, he's asleep." The Sans explained. 

Silence. 

"Do you not care that you were just possessed?" Dust asked bluntly as Error helped Geno and the host to a seat. 

"I chose to host Fresh." 

There were actually several gasps at this. 

Error sighed, rubbing his skull tiredly. "I guess it's about time you knew anyway." He muttered. He glanced at the skeleton wearing neon. "Is he okay?" The Sans pointed at the thing in his arms. Error noted that and glanced at everyone else. "I would help Fresh when he needed a new host. Both Geno and I did." 

"Mostly me." Geno added. 

"If I found a Sans begging to die after I'd dealt with his AU, I'd give him an option." He paused for that to sink in. 

"Geno worked with Reaper to find those who weren't on the list to get destroyed that still wanted to die and give them the choice." 

Now the host spoke, coughing for a second before he did so. "It's a win-win situation. Someone who has something worth living for gets more time while I die." He smiled at Eragon and Orik, then Saphira. "I've been kinda wanting to actually  _ meet _ you three. I have a funny feeling you'll be doing something big in the future. Weird, huh?" 

Eragon nodded slowly. 

"Oeí, I hope so." Orik murmured. 

Error sighed again, voice staticy as glitches distorted it faintly. "So no, Fresh's hosts aren't in pain."

"I have a question, though." Eragon spoke up. 

"What?" Geno responded. 

"Why do you call him your brother if he isn't even your race? In fact, he is a parasite of your species." 

Both Geno and Error shook their skulls. 

"It's a long story. Technically, we are related, just not as brothers. But to us, that's what we are. Literally, Fresh was created by accident when Error was the original  _ me. _ He was part of my code for a while as Error was corrupted by the Anti-Void. Fresh was released when someone visited me in my prison, the Save Screen. It was Ink himself. There, Fresh started preying on AU's until we found him again. Long story short, we've accepted that he's a parasite and do our best to work around that problem. Though.." Geno trailed, now looking alarmed. 

Fresh's host chuckled. "And it hits him." He smiled, still a broken smile, as he faced everyone. "I guess you've never seen the real Fresh, right?" 

"No."

"Do we even want to?" 

"Why do you ask?"

He gestured the pile of purple tentacles in his arms. "I honestly never thought he'd look cute sleeping, but look at him." He smiled a little more, holding the parasite so everyone could see. 

The reactions varied between disgust and adoration. Red, Killer, and Dust backed away as GB froze. Chaos awwed as Blueberry smirked. Nightmare stared for a moment, then gently reached over and pet the creature's head. It's skin was loose on it's body, slick, and caught on his phalanges slightly. It twisted under his hand before it began vibrating. 

"Boss, why the fuck are you petting it." Dust asked flatly. 

"It's Fresh. He won't hurt any of us. That, and it seems he's capable of purring." 

Killer snorted. "What?" He came up close, peering at the parasite. "Holy hell, he really is ugly." Nightmare smacked him before Geno could. Error shot him a death stare. 

"Okay, that was kinda uncalled for. Sorry."

"Well now you have to pet him." Chaos told him, the statement punctuated by a particularly gurgling trill from the creature. Nightmare chuckled slightly. "It's actually quite strange." He added.

"There is no way in hell I'm touching that." Killer waved his hands. "No." 

Geno snorted, then grabbed Killer's hand and pressed it against the parasite's wormy flesh. 

Killer let out a horrified wail. "Let me go oh God let me go it's so  _ weird!!" _ He held his wrist and danced in place, ignoring everyone's laughter as he whimpered. "Holy fuck it's so weird!" He complained loudly. Geno narrowed his sockets. "Sssh. You don't want to wake him up." He whispered in a low voice. Killer froze for a second, before pulling harder against the bloody glitch's iron grip. "Let me go oh fuck let me go you're fucking insane Jesus someone get me out of here-" 

Chaos and Red burst into laughter, the Temmie wheezing on the floor as Red pointed and laughed rudely. Horror grinned, walking up and peering at the strange creature. Then he stuck a single phalange in one spot and scratched. 

Geno suddenly let go, Killer scrambling away and cradling his hand like it had been violated. Fresh was wriggling under Horror's attention, tentacles twitching and waggling as his host giggled at the sight. 

Suddenly it squealed, turning around and wrapping a tendril around Horror's hand and looking at him with childlike amusement before seemingly returning to reality. It's beady yellow eyes widened and stared at the broken skeleton, who giggled. "Feels funny." 

Fresh recoiled from the touch, chittering frantically. 

"Hey, there's nothing to be afraid of, no one's scared of you." Geno whispered to the parasite, who just stared at him with wide eyes. It peeped. 

"Hey, I think you're kinda cute, in a weird way." Horror added, reaching for him again. A tentacle slapped his hand away. Horror whined, but stopped. 

Red was suddenly in front of the parasite. "Wow. You look like if an amalgamate was a disheveled shar pei as well." Nightmare slapped him upside the skull, glaring angrily. This time Geno hit him, too.

"He looks  _ fucking adorable!" _ Error growled

Red just huffed and stalked off, aware of when to stop.

Then Saphira huffed and leaned over, peering at the insignificant creature nestled in it's host's arms. 

_ Yours is a unique shape, I have not seen any matter of creature like you. If I were you, I would take pride in that individuality.  _

She hummed, blue eyes studying the purple parasite as it's yellow eyes stared back. 

Then something wormed into all their minds. 

_ Y'know I don't care, right brightscales dragon brah? Pretty sweet compliment though, heh. _

It wriggled in place, making itself comfortable in it's host's arms. 

_ Since y'all gone an' seen me an everything, I guess it don't matter if I go to sleep, brah. Determination up an makes me sleepy, yo. _

It closed it's eyes. 

_ Glad you don't mind Petals here. He's the most rad host of mine I up and had in a couple decades. _

The mental probe left them, conveniently in time, as Nasuada and Arya had arrived. 

Nasuada looked ready to speak, but she froze upon seeing their faces and then the creature. "What is that?" She ended up asking. The carrier spoke before anyone else. " _ That's _ Fresh." 

Her eyes shot up to him, surprised and confused. "He possesses me. Don't worry, he won't hurt you." 

He held it so she could touch if she wanted. The creature shifted to train one of it's beady eyes on her, then casually waved a tentacle. 

"How exactly do you possess this person?" She asked it. Fresh made a gurgling, chortling sound. Geno then inserted himself between the human and his brother. 

"He's a parasite. He was born that way." He crossed his arms defensively. 

Nightmare approached them. "Listen, Fresh is only a parasite that can affect monsters, he can furthermore only possess skeletons. He is only out in the open because we had recently discovered that is host is dying sooner than to be expected. And do not worry about that, Fresh has always chosen his hosts because they  _ want _ to die. His family had a system in place where they would find those willing to be his host."

"Hello!" The Sans waved from behind Geno at the mention. Geno reluctantly stepped aside. 

"As you can see, there aren't exactly any spare monsters that want to die around here, so we are trying to prolong this one's life span until we have better chances of finding someone willing." He realized that the others had noticed his use of  _ we _ . 

"Why does he wish to die?" Arya questioned. 

The Sans scratched Fresh on the head before replying. "Because the one I loved died. And more, my entire universe is gone. I have nothing left for me anymore. I agreed to help Fresh because it's what she would have wanted. And I'm still agreeing to live a little longer so others with lives worth living can have a future." 

"And how is yours not worth it?" He sighed at the elf. "It never was much, I was living in hell already. But when that angel came, she made it worth it.. Then she died. For real. I don't want to live without her, but I'd rather die honorably, doing some good instead of just killing myself." 

He stared hard at them. "I have nothing left." He glanced down at the parasite. 

"Except this guy for a little while." 

There was a moment of silence. 

Nasuada placed one of her hands over the skeleton's. "If that is your choice, I will not judge you for it. The world can become bleak indeed when the ones you love are lost." 

He nodded, then took her hand and rested it on Fresh, who turned and looked at him. Nasuada went still. 

"He's.. soft. And warm." 

Fresh twisted around and gazed at her, then her hand. Then he patted it with a tendril and pushed it off. Finally his voice wormed into their minds. 

_Dis is all coolio and all, but you radical broskis are up an leaving, yo. Mabes you should say goodbies and all that. I don't exactly appreciate all dis attention on myself._ _Dis is weird, y'know? Not that I mind the petting…_

Several skeletons were coughing awkwardly as Geno explained how they were making Fresh uncomfortable to those who had blocked their minds from the unfamiliar contact. Nasuada took a step back. "Yes, that is true. We have delayed long enough." 

Blinking, she faced Eragon, only to freeze. The Rider wasn't meeting her gaze. Nightmare turned to see what was the trouble this time, only to notice the hammer and stars engraved upon his helm. He blinked, seeing Eragon's shame.

"You accepted." Nasuada commented calmly. 

Nightmare quickly reached out to Error's mind to understand what was happening.

What is this?

**He's part of the clan now, apparently.**

The Dûrgrimst Ingietum? Well I see no great fault in that. He will have dual loyalty again..

During their short conversation, Nasuada was explaining the same to Eragon. 

"Perhaps it is best we share your loyalty." Surprising him with a smile, gifting him with a bag of coins before facing everyone leaving. "Have a safe trip, everyone." 

"No need to worry about that." Error explained casually with a soft smirk, gesturing at the armband he now wore. Nightmare stared for a moment before it hit him. He recalled a conversation with the glitch back at Gil'ead. His ability to sense his strings, as well as his ability to teleport wherever they were. The bands, they were made of his strings. 

"Error, you absolute genius!" He exclaimed before he could stop himself. The glitch grinned as he hit him playfully. "You made trackers!" 

The others started staring at their own armbands and Error as they realized it, too. The glitch shrugged. "I gotta make sure my family and friends are safe. I'm sure you can handle yourselves, but there's nothing like having the god of destruction on call. If you need me, yell for me. I'll come." He grinned again, sockets closed. "I always find the time for what's mine." 

"Can it work for a non-emergency?" Dust asked. Error glared for a moment. "Please take it seriously. It can, I'm pretty sure." 

"Good, because if we find Reaper I know I'm callin' for you to get Geno." 

Geno went stiff, his eyelight vanishing. "You'd better." He said coldly. "I need to beat him for disappearing on me." 

Chaos giggled as the departing team all nodded. Dust certainly knew the priorities of those in Eldjierdar. Especially the most terrifying person on that side.

Not Error, the literal God of Destruction.

Geno, the unkillable glitch with a glare that could kill. And he now had a sword.

Sinead gave Geno a weapon. 

Error clapped his hands together, glitching louder than usual as he did so, grabbing everyone's attention. The parasite trilled, making Orik and Jörmundur flinch before the human extended his hand to Eragon. 

Both humans shook hands.

"Have a good trip, Eragon and Wyrdvrangr. Guard yourselves well." 

"Come." Arya told them, slipping by and into the shadows of Farthen Dûr. "It is time to leave. Aiedail has set, and we have far to go." 

Nightmare nodded with a small smile as they turned to follow.

"Aye." Orik agreed, taking a red lantern from his pack.

"Red, are you sure you'll be fine with Error?" Nightmare questioned one more time. The edgy skeleton was staying behind as representative of Wyrdvrangr among the Varden, just as Blue and GB were leaving to represent Eldjierdar.

"I'll be fine. I was with them before you arrived here. Only difference is Error now, I guess." 

The glitch nodded and glanced at Nasuada as she prepared to speak. 

"Very well. Eragon, Saphira, Nightmare. You and your people have the Varden's blessings, as well as mine. May your journey be safe. Remember, you carry the weight of our hopes and expectations, so acquit yourselves honorably." 

"We will do our best." Eragon said.

Blue struck a pose. "We will carry the weight of the Varden's hopes and dreams with more honor than any other task. Even more so than becoming a Royal Guard! Which isn't really anywhere near as important or cool as this!" 

Nightmare chuckled, glancing at the energetic skeleton. "I think he's said what's necessary." He explained, Blueberry beaming. "Until we meet again, Nasuada." He shook her hand, turning away.

But then Killer and Dust both swore and teleported back. "Damnit Red, we just got you back!" Dust exclaimed as they barreled into a rough hug.

"Fuck you, assholes." Red grinned as he endured the embrace. Killer punched him lightly while stepping away. Red dove in and gave him a noogie. "Now piss off before I get mad." He ordered them with a smile. 

"Fine, asswipe." Killer saluted him as he teleported to the rest of Wyrdvrangr.

"You bastard." Red crossed his arms. Dust snickered. "C'ya, fucker." He bowed mockingly and vanished as well.

From his place still among the Eldjierdar, Red gave his friends the middle finger with a fake angry expression, before waving carelessly and turning around, calling over his shoulder. "If you get dusted I'll be killing you assholes, right after I fuck up your murderers!" 

"Same goes for you!" Dust shouted back, cupping his hands. 

"Ah, fuck you." 

"Cross!" Chaos called out, racing towards him eagerly. The monochrome stopped, staring confusedly.

She reached up to her scarf, undoing the knot before she yanked up one of his overcoat's sleeves and she tied the blue cloth around his arm. "You better give that back to me when you return! Got it?" She demanded, blushing deeply in vivid yellow.

Cross blushed a little himself, looking off to the side with a purple tint of his own. "Look, if this is about that kiss-" "Don't say anything. It's okay, Crossy." She whispered before darting back to her father's side, face lit up like a glowing lemon. Cross stared at the scarf wrapped between his radius and ulna and around with the color of plums displayed on his face. "O-okay then. I'll keep careful watch of it!" 

He seemed to consider removing it, but then just tugged his sleeve down. 

Nightmare grinned to himself as Dust and Killer chuckled. The team of skeletons, dwarf, elf, dragon and Rider headed for the far wall of Farthen Dûr. 

This was a family. A weird, violent, awkward and rude one, but still a good family. 

The door loomed above them, imposing not because of its size, but what it represented.

Everyone but Saphira, Arya and Orik paused at it. 

_ What is it? _ Saphira asked them. 

…

They walked through, starting yet another chapter of their story. What awaited them now? Only time would tell.


End file.
